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Elfreda Darted Ahead. 


Frontispiece. 















Grace Harlowe’s Overland 
Riders on the Lost 
River Trail 


By 

JESSIE GRAHAM FLOWER, A.M. 

Author of The High School Girls Series, The College Girls Series, The 
Grace Harlowe Overseas Series, Grace Harlowe’s Overland Riders 
on the Old Apache Trail, Grace Harlowe’s Overland Riders on 
the Great American Desert, Grace Harlowe’s Overland 
Riders Among the Kentucky Mountaineers, Grace Har¬ 
lowe’s Overland Riders in the Great North Woods, 

Grace Harlowe’s Overland Riders in the High 
Sierras, Grace Harlowe’s Overland Riders 
in the Yellowstone National Park, 

Grace Harlowe’s Overland Riders 
in the Black Hills, Grace Har¬ 
lowe’s Overland Riders 
Among the Border 
Guerrillas, etc., 
etc. 


Illustrated 


PHILX DELPHIX 

HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY 



Copyrighted, 1924, by 
Howard E. Altemus 



• m, 


©C1A807552 

PRINTED IN THE 
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 


OCT 23 *324 


t 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Chapter I—A Mystery or the Night......11 

“There is peril in the air,” warns the guide. Over¬ 
landers take flight. Emma says the suspense is kill¬ 
ing her. * i The worst is yet to come, ’ ’ promises Stacy 
Brown. Threatened by a forest fire. The Overland 
Eiders hasten to the relief of imperilled villagers. 

Chapter II—In the Demon’s Grip....23 

Inhabitants of Silver Creek deride Ham White’s warn¬ 
ing. Aroused at last. The fire demon roars. Miss 
Briggs narrowly escapes. “The fire is yonder! Work, 
you thick-heads! ” A woman’s scream starts a panic 
among the villagers. 


Chapter III—A Eain of Fire .37 

Ham White directs the fire-fighters. Great tongues 
of flame. The panic increases. Grace urges village 
women to the creek. Danger in the water. Elfreda 
Briggs is carried away on the current. Land at last. 

The Overland girl utters a thrilling cry. 

Chapter IV —The Lost Cabin. 45 

The village is saved. Overland horses are missing. 

* 1 Eun, girls! Eun ! 1 ’ cries Grace. Ham White is 
excited. Searching parties are organized. Emma con¬ 
cerned for her ‘ ( Hamilton . 9 9 Another member of the 
Overland party is missing. 11 Help! I’m dying ! 9 9 
groans Elfreda’s caller. 


5 






6 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Chapter V—A Fruitless Quest. 58 

Overland girls search the village for their missing com¬ 
panions. Ham White hears more bad news. The 
guide fears the worst. “There is another peril!** 

Only the lieutenant knows that one of his party has 
slipped away looking for the missing. 

Chapter VI —Facing a New Peril. 64 

The wounded prospector tells his story. “Oh, you 
poor man,” cries Elfreda Briggs. “They shot me 
for gold! ** A grave duty to perform. Miss Briggs* 
legacy. Sam Petersen*s horse hidden. Mountain ban¬ 
dits pay a visit to Lost Cabin. 

Chapter VH —The Discovery... 71 

‘*Hawk Murray! * * breathes Elfreda Briggs. The 
Overland girl keeps her nerve. Eeady to defend her¬ 
self. Startled by the return of a bandit. “Lady, 
what about the saddle over there in the brush?** he 
asks. Elfreda in the toils. A strange thing happens. 

Chapter Vm —Stacy Takes a Hand. 82 

* * I *11 show you you can *t steal my beans and fish 1 * * 
howls the fat boy. Stacy proves himself a hero. Mys¬ 
terious shots put the caller to flight. “They’ve shot 
him! * * cried the girL A voice from the shadows of 
the Lost Cabin. An amazing disappearance. 

Chapter IX —Mysteries Multiply. .92 

The journey to Silver Creek begun. Stacy helps him¬ 
self to beans. The welcome home. “Lost River** 
an Indian legend. Words fail the fat boy. Miss 
Briggs confides in Grace. Elfreda *s gold turns to 
stone. Sam Petersen *s diary whisked from Grace Har- 
lowe’s hand. 







CONTENTS 


7 


PAGE 

Chapter X—The Man prom Seattle .100 

* 1 Hands up ! 9 9 Peanuts are great civilizers. Over¬ 
landers regard their guest with suspicion. Emma 
makes the fat boy laugh. “Just another mystery.” 

1 i Now who are you, and what is your game ? 19 demands 
Ham White sternly. Stalked by a shadow. “Quick! 
Something has happened to Elfreda! ” 

Chapter XI— Believers in Safety First .117 

Guns bang and Stacy lies low. Struck on the head. 

“I felt a hand under my pillow,” explains Miss 
Briggs. The guide is disturbed. Emma offers to 
* ‘ demonstrate ” for him. Stacy alarmed for his trou¬ 
sers. Jim Haley makes a mysterious disappearance. 

Chapter XII—A Successful Experiment .124 

Elfreda’s experience leaves her pale. More than one 
man involved in the attack. White finds a trail of 
blood. Stacy Brown votes himself the cross of war. 

The fat boy up to mischief. Another shadow stalks 
the Overland tents. A near panic in the camp. 

Chapter XIII— The Camp is Invaded .135 

Bears on the rampage. Ponies snort in fright. 
“We’ve got them going! ” cries Ham White. Havoc 
worked by marauding beasts. One bear is killed. 
Stacy confesses that he called the bears. The sav¬ 
agery of Nature let loose. “They are coming! 
Move cautiously.” 

Chapter XIV— The Battle of the Beasts .144 

Howls are mingled with snarls. Coyotes attack the 
dead bear. Wolves add to the uproar. A sight that 
thrilled. The battle brief. Grace takes a shot and 
misses. Stacy downs a lion. Slinking forms stalk the 
ponies. Beady for trouble. A wounded man staggers 
into camp. 







8 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Chapter XV—A Rude Awakening .155 

* * It’s Jim Haley l" exclaims the guide. The moun¬ 
tain ruffians wanted peanuts. White refuses to double- 
cross the Overlanders. Ham White sees the “Forest 
Eyes.” The old prospector's secrets studied. Inter¬ 
rupted by an intruder. “Who says a woman can't 
throw a stone?'' 

Chapter XVI— Bandits Take Their Toll .169 

Hippy and the guide search for a prowler. Guard¬ 
ing the camp. An Overlander is missing. An anx¬ 
ious watch. The search abandoned. Nora reassured 
by the guide. Ham White admits that he has made 
a discovery. “ Stacy Brown has been forcibly re¬ 
moved !'' is the startling announcement. 

Chapter XVII—A Test op Courage. 177 

Two Overland Riders now missing. Hamilton White 
is apprehensive. An all-night vigil. The guide sends 
wig-wag signals in the early morn. “ Great danger 
to both!'' Grace Harlowe reads the fluttering mes¬ 
sage. A girl's clever strategy. “Hamilton White, 

I have you now 1 9 9 

Chapter XVIII— The Flaming Arrow .185 

Hippy finds himself in the toils. Visited by his cap- 
tors. f ‘ Keep quiet and listen to me!'' warns a hoarse 
voice. A long and trying hike. The Overlander re¬ 
stored to his friends. “Isn’t that just like a man ! 99 
A guest who is doubly welcome. A flaming messenger 
drops into camp. 

Chapter XIX—His Fate in the Balance .199 

A letter from Stacy. The fat boy to “be shot at 
sunrise.'' In the hands of desperate men. A sud¬ 
den flash lights up Tom Gray's eyes. Bandits' de¬ 
mands are met. The guide takes a hurried departure. 

A mysterious mission. * 1 It isn't safe to say a word.'' 







CONTENTS 


9 


PAGE 

Chapter XX—“Pm Shot!” Cries Emma.206 

Tom leads in the long night journey. Battle sounds 
in the air. Grace makes a pleasing discovery. A warn¬ 
ing against the mountain bandits. The Overland party 
awakened by the crash of a rifle. The camp in con¬ 
fusion. Emma Dean falls a victim. 


Chapter XXI— Stacy Seeks a Change.212 

Carried away on a horse. In the hands of rough men. 

The fat boy forced to write a letter. His bluff is 
called. Bandits hear bad news. Stacy takes advan¬ 
tage of his opportunity. 


Chapter XXII —A Strange Visitor . 219 

Emma misses an opportunity to * ‘ demonstrate. ’ ’ A 
battle is fought over the Overlanders ’ heads. A thrill¬ 
ing duel in the mountain meadow. “ Something ter¬ 
rible is going to happen ! f 1 An exhibition of great 
courage. A bandit’s career ended. 


Chapter XXIII—A Thrilling Discovery .230 

Cat-foot Charlie arrives. A fallen hero. The arrival 
at Three Mile Pass. The key to many mysteries. Sun¬ 
light yellows the pass. ‘ t Look! Oh, look! ’ 1 Grandma 
and the Children! Elfreda Briggs comes into her own. 

A final good-bye to forest and mountain trails. 

Chapter XXIV— The House of Happiness .247 

Overlanders visit Haven Home. A joyous Christmas 
reunion. Stacy Brown makes a sensational entrance. 

The pink and white bundle in the nursery. Surprises 
come thick and fast. What the snowbird said to 
Emma and Stacy. 


















GRACE HARLOWE’S OVER¬ 
LAND RIDERS ON THE 
LOST RIVER TRAIL 


CHAPTER I 

A MYSTERY OF THE NIGHT 

“X IEUTENANT! Lieutenantl” 

*‘Eh? Wha—what is it?” muttered 
Hippy Wingate, rousing himself from 
a deep sleep. 

“Listen, Lieutenant! There is peril in the 
air,” answered Ham White. “I don’t know 
where it is, but I do know there is trouble 
afoot, and that instant action is necessary. I 
don’t think it advisable to let the others of our 
party know, so long as there probably is no 
immediate danger.” 

“Humph! You men of the forest make me 
weary. Everything is a mystery—a peril and 
so forth and so on. Ham, you’re a good fellow, 
but you remind me of Tom Gray—always look¬ 
ing for trouble. What is the big idea?” 

11 



12 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


Hamilton White placed his lips to Hippy’s 
ear and whispered. A little distance from them 
the camp was sleeping soundly. Not a sound 
disturbed the forest night save the faint whis¬ 
perings of the tree-tops and the occasional 
twitter of a bird high up among the branches. 

“You don’t say!” exclaimed Hippy, sitting 
up awake and thoroughly on the alert. “Are 
you positive?” 

“Yes. It may be a matter of hours; then 
again minutes may cover the time.” 

“What shall we do?” questioned Hippy. 

“Move at once,” answered the guide with 
emphasis. “We will lay our course to the 
northeast and get as far away from here as 
possible in the shortest possible time. We’ve 
got to break camp now, Lieutenant!” 

Hippy Wingate sprang to his feet and began 
dressing. While doing so he asked how they 
were to explain their hurried departure to the 
others of the party, unless the whole truth 
were told. White said he would attend to 
that. 

Hippy shook his head. 

“Ham, you have the Overland Riders sized 
up wrong. They aren’t tenderfeet, not by a 
long shot, nor are they shying at danger any 
more than you are,” declared Hippy with some 
heat. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


13 


16 Turn them out !’ 9 ordered Ham. “We can’t 
afford to waste a moment .’ 9 

“All right, Buddy, I’ll turn them out. You 
will have to do the rest, though. Turn out, 
you sleepy-heads!” roared Hippy. 

The response was almost instantaneous. 
The Overland Riders bounced out of their 
tents, rubbing their eyes, staggering a little, 
for they were not yet fully awake, and de¬ 
manding to know what had happened. Ham 
White, who was already engaged in packing 
their belongings, paused long enough to reply. 

“Folks, we must break camp and get out of 
this right smart,” he informed them. 

“What! Lose my night’s sleep!” wailed 
Stacy Brown. “Move if you wish, but I stay 
right here until after breakfast, then I’ll think 
about seeking new and more beautiful scenes. ’ ’ 
“Mr. White, will you please tell me why we 
must break camp at this hour of the night!” 
begged Grace Harlowe, stepping over to the 
guide, and looking up into his face. “What is 
it! I know you must have good reason or—” 
“Because, Mrs. Gray, some trouble has 
developed in the woods, and we are exposed 
to it. I don’t wish to alarm you, and for that 
reason I can’t explain just now, so please trust 
to me and don’t urge me to give my reasons,” 
answered the guide, resuming his work. 


14 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


Grace directed a quick glance at the sky, and 
Elfreda Briggs, now at her side, did likewise. 
The stars were clear white, and a light breeze 
was stirring the tops of the big pine trees. 

“Grace, what do you make of it?” questioned 
Miss Briggs. 

‘‘Nothing, J. Elfreda. Mr. White is an ex¬ 
perienced guide, so let’s hustle and pack for 
a move . 9 7 

Emma Dean, who had dressed hurriedly, was 
now importuning the guide to tell her what it 
was he feared. 

“If you will only tell me, I will demonstrate 
over it, and you will see how quickly the 
danger, or whatever it may be, will pass,” she 
said. 

“Pardon me, Miss Dean, I am too busy to 
talk. Please get yourself ready for riding as 
quickly asfpossible,” replied Mr. White. 

“Oh, very well!” Emma elevated her chin 
and walked away. 

“ Go on! Demonstrate! I know Ham is will¬ 
ing to try most anything once,” urged Stacy 
Brown. 

“If Mr. Wliite tried you once, I am quite 
certain a second trial would be unnecessary, 
Stacy,” retorted Emma. 

“Wow!” muttered Stacy. 

~ 7 ‘If my Hippy says it is all right I am sat- 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


15 


isfied,” spoke up Nora Wingate, giving Hippy 
a playful pat as he passed her. 

‘ ‘ How demonstrate f’ ’ wondered Hippy. 6 ‘ Is 
this another of your fads? You have been 
'concentrating,’ ‘reading nature,’ and doing 
goodness knows how many other crazy things, 
on several recent journeys.” 

“Mine is not a fad, Hippy,” replied Emma 
with dignity. “What you call ‘fads’ are 
simply demonstrations of Truth. ’ ’ 

“Such as Arline Thayer put over on you last 
year,” chuckled Stacy Brown, to which Miss 
Dean deigned no reply. 

“It is too bad that poor Arline’s health will 
not permit her being with us this year,” mur¬ 
mured Grace. 

“Demonstrating,” resumed Emma thought¬ 
fully, “is to breathe in^ harmony, permitting no 
inharmonious thoughts to enter your being.” 

“Meaning what?” persisted Hippy Wingate 
teasingly. 

“Meaning, sir, that if you will think hard in 
the right way, believing with all your might 
that certain things will come out as you wish 
them to, you will find that they will. ’ ’ 

“Good! I’ll just demonstrate a million dol¬ 
lars into my pocket between now and morning, ’ ’ 
promised Stacy. 

Hamilton iWhite gave the Overlanders a 


16 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


quick glance of appraisal, and nodded to him¬ 
self. He admitted that perhaps he had not at 
first formed the proper estimate of the party 
he was guiding through the forests and moun¬ 
tains of the rugged state of Washington. All 
hands, with the possible exception of Stacy, 
began work, and in less than an hour the camp 
had been struck and the equipment loaded on 
the ponies, the embers of the cook fire having 
been well soaked with water. 

The girls of the party were still trying to 
solve the mystery of their hurried departure as 
they mounted and started away with Mr. White 
in the lead. They soon found themselves too 
fully occupied to give thought to anything other 
than to dodging trees and low-hanging limbs, 
for the forest was very dark. Hippy Wingate 
brought up the rear, Stacy Brown in the middle 
of the line of riders, grumbling and complain¬ 
ing with every jolt of the pony, now and then 
dozing off in his saddle but suddenly awaken¬ 
ing as a tree-trunk scraped his shin or a bough 4 
smote him in the face. 

After an hour of uncomfortable riding 
the guide called a halt, and, strapping on his 
climbers, began climbing a tree. He was out 
of sight in a few seconds. In the meantime, 
Grace, gazing up to the skies, noticed that the 
stars had now lost their whiteness and had 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 17 

taken on a faded tint. This puzzled her. She 
did not know how to interpret the change, 
unless, perhaps, it was caused by fog. 

“Did you solve the mystery, Mr. White V 9 
called Emma in her sweetest voice as the guide 
stepped to the ground and began removing his 
climbers, for Emma had already attached her¬ 
self to Hamilton White as a man worth while. 
‘ < What did you discover ? ” 

“Principally atmosphere, Miss Dean,” was 
the noncommittal reply. 

“I think you are real mean,” pouted Emma. 
“I am angry with you. Some persons think it 
is clever to make a mystery of everything, 
and—” 

“Oh, demonstrate over it,” advised Stacy 
wearily. “It’s only light-headed persons who 
thus reason.” 

“Indeed! That accounts for some of your 
peculiarities,” Emma came back quickly. By 
this time the Overlanders were laughing over 
the sparring of Emma Dean and Stacy Brown. 

“Please get under way,” directed the guide, 
vaulting into his saddle. Grace and Elfreda 
took up positions behind him, and the journey 
through the somber forest again began. It 
continued on until about an hour before day¬ 
break, when, in the faint light, the two girls 
observed the guide moisten a finger on his lips 

2 - Grace Harlowe on Lost River 


18 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


and hold it up, slowly turning the finger from 
side to side. 

Grace wondered, and did the same several 
times, observed questioningly by her com¬ 
panion. 

“ What is it?” whispered Miss Briggs. 

“I —I’m not certain,” answered Grace a 
little lamely. 

“This suspense is killing me,” cried Emma, 
joining the two girls. “Unless my curiosity is 
gratified, I surely shall expire.” 

“Why don’t you do what you threatened to 
do, demonstrate over the situation?” de* 
manded Elfreda laughingly. 

“Hamilton doesn’t like me to,” returned 
Miss Dean flushing. * 

“So? That is the way the wind blows,” 
chuckled Elfreda, and the girls laughed heart¬ 
ily- 

‘ ‘ Hamilton! ’ ’ murmured Grace. ‘ ‘ It seems to 
me that matters are progressing rather rapidly, 
Emma dear. Here we have been out less than 
two days on our annual vacation in the saddle, 
and you are calling our handsome guide by his 
first name. I am amazed at you. I—” 

Ham White threw up a hand as a signal that 
they were to halt. Day was dawning, and the 
waving plumes of the tall pines were now quite 
plainly visible from below. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


19 


“Stop here and take a light breakfast. 
Better not unpack anything. I will be back in 
a few minutes,’’ said the guide. “These are 
orders,” he flung back over his shoulder as he 
rode rapidly away. 

“It seems to me that our guide is rather 
bossy,” observed Nora Wingate. 

“He isn’t!” protested Emma indignantly. 
“He is the finest man I ever knew.” 

The others looked at each other and burst out 
laughing; then they began teasing Emma as 
they ate breakfast standing beside their ponies. 
Mr. White returned ere they had finished their 
light meal. A quick, comprehensive glance 
showed him that his orders had been obeyed. 

“You people think me an alarmist, I know, 
but the fact is I did not -wish to alarm you until 
I was certain. Now that I have been able to get 
a clear observation, I know. ’ ’ 

“The worst is yet to come,” grumbled Stacy. 

“Yes. You always bring this outfit bad 
luck,” retorted Emma. 

“Please, please, children!” begged Grace. 
66 What is it, Mr. White ? ’ ’ 

“We are in the direct path of a forest fire!” 

There followed a moment’s silence, then 
Hippy spoke up. 

“What is the chance of our getting away 
from it?” he asked. 


20 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“I am coming to that, and—” 

“Then the question seems to be, how much 
time have we to get out of the way of this 
fire ? ’ ’ questioned Grace. 

The guide said that neither he nor any one 
else could answer that question. 

“A forest fire is a sneaking demon,” he de¬ 
clared. “Sometimes one sees no fire at all, 
then again it seems as if the whole universe 
were ablaze. As a rule, persons who are caught 
in forest fires never realize it until the fire has 
leaped upon them. This fire, so far, is the kind 
you do see. Look up!” 

All eyes were turned upwards. They saw 
that the sky was covered with a yellow haze. 
The haze seemed low. Birds were winging 
their way northward, flying swiftly, and there 
were rustlings farther out in the forest, and 
sounds of unseen creatures hurrying. 

“I wish Tom were here,” breathed Grace. 
Tom Gray, her much-loved husband, now a 
well-known forestry engineer,'was somewhere 
off in that vast forest, making a survey for the 
government. Grace uttered a fervent prayer 
for his safety. 

“I believe the fire is still some hours away, 
but the breeze is in our direction, and bids fair 
to hold all day. By striking off to the eastward 
and making good time, we have an excellent 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


21 


chance of getting to higher rocky ground where 
we shall probably be safe,” was the guide's 
prediction. 

“Alors! Let’s go,” urged J. Elfreda Briggs, 
with a touch of her old-time lightness of spirit. 

‘ ‘ That is what I am getting at. I can direct 
you so that you folks ought to make it, but I 
dislike leaving you,” added Mr. White. 

“Leaving us!” exclaimed Emma. 

“Yes. More than half a day’s ride from here 
is a village, a forest mountain village, with 
women and children, who, perhaps, will never 
know their peril until too late. It is known as 
Silver Creek, named from the stream that flows 
through it, a stream that for about half of the 
year is a swollen torrent—water icy cold, 
coming from the mountain peaks in the north. 
In any event, they will need help, and it is my 
duty to get there as quickly as possible. Lieu¬ 
tenant, will you take it upon yourself to lead 
your party to safety, and let me go on?” 

“That—that is for the girls to answer,” 
replied Hippy gravely, turning to Grace and 
her companions. 

“Help will be needed at Silver Creek, you 
think, Mr. White?” questioned Grace. 

“Yes. All they can get.” 

11 Girls, I think we, too, know where our duty 
lies, do we not?” she asked evenly. 


22 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“Yes!” was the quick reply from Elfreda 
and Nora and Emma. 

“We are going with you, Mr. White,” an¬ 
nounced Grace. 

“Oh, help!” wailed Stacy. 

A moment later the Overland party was rid¬ 
ing at top speed, following closely on the heels 
of the guided pony, knowing that upon their 
speed in reaching their destination many lives 
might depend. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


23 


CHAPTER II 

IN THE DEMON’S GRIP 

'T THEW! The weather is getting hotter 
Y y and hotter np here!” exclaimed 
Stacy, fanning himself with his 
sombrero as they trotted along. “Does it al¬ 
ways get this way np here?” 

“Sometimes,” answered the guide, with a 
grim smile. 

The others of the party who saw the smile 
understood. 

“Hamilton, you don’t mean it is the heat 
coming from the forest that we feel, do you?” 
questioned Miss Dean. 

The guide nodded and urged his pony ahead 
at a more rapid pace. The others were keep¬ 
ing up a continual chatter, laughing and joking, 
and Ham White wondered if they fully real¬ 
ized the peril that was stalking them. Mr. 
White did not yet know the young people he 
was guiding. Nor did they know him, which 
fact Elfreda Briggs voiced when she spoke to 
Grace on the subject as they were jogging 
along. 


24 


GEACE HAELOWE ON 


“There is something about Mr. White that 
I can’t interpret,” she said. 

“And that is?” demanded Grace, regarding 
her companion with twinkling eyes. 

“That is just it; I don’t know. I do know 
that Emma has an awful crush on him, though 
I am positive that Mr. White doesn’t know it.” 

“It is nothing new with Emma, is it?” 
answered Grace laughingly. “Let me see, how 
many men has the dear girl been in love with 
since we went to France for war work with our 
college unit?” 

‘ ‘ Oh, I lost the count a long time ago. What 
is that?” 

“Snow. Look at the snow!” shouted Stacy, 
pointing to a show T er of white flakes that was 
sifting down over them. 

“Oh, it can’t be possible!” wondered Nora 
Wingate. 

“Yes, snow, and the temperature a hundred 
in the shade,” declared Stacy. “This is a 
fine climate. I feel cooler just at sight of those 
beautiful white flakes.” 

“What is it, Ham?” called Hippy. 

“ Ashes!” answered the guide. “Eide 
hard!’ ’ 

The Overlanders understood now. It was 
ashes from the forest fire that was following 
on their trail, and no further urging was neces- 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


25 


sary to keep them going as fast as they could 
force their horses. In a short time they were 
free from the feathery shower and the air 
seemed fresher, though they occasionally 
caught a faint odor of smoke. The Overlanders 
felt a certain relief, believing that they had 
thrown off their pursuer, but Hamilton "White 
felt no such assurance. That taint of smoke 
told him more than the shower of ashes had 
told him. It meant that the fire was creeping 
rather than blazing high, and he knew that a 
creeping forest fire was a much to be dreaded 
enemy. One never knew when or where to look 
for it, and it had an uncanny habit of swoop¬ 
ing down on one when least looked for, and 
devouring. Ham increased his pace. 

No stop had been made in that long ride, 
except once to let the sweating ponies drink 
from a cold mountain stream, and about mid- 
afternoon the guide called back that they were 
nearing Silver Creek village. The party caught 
their first glance at the creek, whose shining 
surface indicated that it had been well named. 
It was silvery, but ere they had followed it 
long, little waves of mud-colored water were 
leaping up. 

There had been a severe storm in the moun¬ 
tains within a day, and the flood was pouring 
down on its way to the lowlands. It was soon 


26 


GEACE HAELOWE ON 


roaring so loudly that they had to shout to 
make themselves heard. 

Then the village suddenly burst upon them, 
a settlement of several hundred people, with 
stores and a post office that got its mail twice 
a week by a post rider. 

The party of riders as they entered the vil¬ 
lage attracted the entire attention of the in¬ 
habitants, who gathered about, and regarded 
the newcomers closely. 

“Got anything to eat in this burg?” de¬ 
manded Stacy Brown, slipping from his saddle 
and grinning at the villagers. 

“Eeckon ye can git something at the store,” 
answered someone. 

“Then me for the store!” 

Stacy left his pony and ambled into the 
general store, where Ham White and Hippy 
already had gone. WTiite was just greeting the 
postmaster, who owned the place, as Stacy 
entered. 

“Forest fire?” jeered the postmaster, in re¬ 
ply to the guide’s warning. “Never had any 
such thing at Silver Creek—never expect to. 
Creek yonder will stop any forest fire that ever 
sprung a spark. Look at it! Listen to it! 
I reckon you’ve—” 

“Stop it!” commanded WTiite sternly. “I 
demand the help of the villagers, and if they 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


27 


don’t make haste this town will be wiped out 
before they get started.” 

Stacy helped himself liberally from the 
cracker barrel, listening wide-eyed to the con¬ 
versation. So long as the crackers held out he 
was well satisfied to- have the men talk and keep 
the storekeeper occupied. 

“Who be ye?” demanded the man. 

“I am the guide of this party, and—” 
Ham whispered to the storekeeper. 

“Eh? Oh, well, if that’s the case I reckon 
we’ve got to go through the motions of stop¬ 
ping a fire that ain’t. What do ye propose to 
do?” 

“Call these people together and tell them to 
get their axes and begin to fell trees around 
the village. I will tell them which ones to cut. 
Then I want them to help us backfire the grass 
around the village; get out every pail and pan 
in the place. If there are any barrels here, 
fill them with water. Cut boughs to whip out 
the fire and keep it from getting away from us 
while we are backfiring. My party will help. 
Have you seen any rangers here within a day 
or so?” 

“No. Bud Carver was passing through about 
a week ago, and he said—” 

“Never mind what he said. Get out and tell 
those people what they are to do—” 


28 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


White was interrupted by a growl from the 
storekeeper, who had grabbed Stacy by the col¬ 
lar and separated him from the cracker barrel. 

“Here, ye young thief—” 

“Don’t you call me a thief!” protested 
Stacy. “I am paying for what I get. I’d have 
paid in advance, but you were busy and I didn’t 
want to interrupt you,” explained the fat boy 
lamely. “Here’s five cents, and that is more 
than the whole barrel is worth. I’ll bet you 
have had them here ever since Washington 
stopped being a territory—in name.” 

Uttering a growl, the storekeeper stalked out 
to the porch and waved the people to him. 
Hippy Wingate grasped Stacy by an arm and 
propelled him from the store. 

“It is fortunate for you, young man, that 
there was nothing to eat in the postoffice part 
of the place, or you would have helped yourself 
and got in trouble with the United States Gov¬ 
ernment,” declared Hippy. 

The others of the party had led their ponies 
up to the porch and were standing beside them, 
waiting for orders from the guide, each one 
listening attentively while the storekeeper told 
the villagers what Hamilton White had directed 
him to say. 

A loud laugh followed the remarks. 

“Ain’t goin’ to burn no grass ’round here! 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


29 


That’s stock grass fer the cows and the hosses 
next winter,” warned one. 

“The grass is going to be burned, and if 
you don’t do it we shall do it ourselves. If we 
fail, the forest fire will do it and take in the 
village at the same time,” warned the guide. 

“Show me a forest fire and I’ll think about 
it,” demanded the man. 

“You have a nose. Can’t you smell it?” re¬ 
torted Hippy Wingate. 

The villager laughed. 

“That smoke is from a bush fire on Bald 
Mountain where a feller is clearing a pa’cel of 
ground fer a cabin,” jeered the villager. 

“The breeze doesn’t happen to be blowing 
from the direction of Bald Mountain, my man,” 
reminded White. “It is coming from the oppo¬ 
site direction. If you will use your brains, pro¬ 
vided you have any, you will find that the air 
from the south on your face is hotter by several 
degrees than it is from the other direction. Get 
your axes and the other things that Mr. Skinner 
has for us.” 

Still unconvinced, the man shook his head, 
and refused. 

“Tie your horses, Overlanders! We will 
backfire ourselves,” called White. 

“Ye’ll get a charge of buckshot in yer carcass 
if ye do! ” threatened the mountaineer. 


30 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“Try it!” suggested Ham White, giving the 
man a long, steady look in the eyes. The pro¬ 
testing villager melted away. 

At White’s direction, the storekeeper got out 
all the pails in his store, which, together with 
axes and grnb-hoes, were cast out on the porch. 

“You ladies must keep hack out of the way,” 
directed Ham. 

“We shall do our part, Mr. White,” an¬ 
swered Grace. “Give us something to do.” 

“Very well,” answered the guide after slight 
hesitation. “You may fill all these pails with 
water and distribute them along the edge of 
the village on the north side.” 

Boughs, green and tough, were quickly cut 
by White, who then directed Hippy to start 
backfiring, which means firing towards the ap¬ 
proaching forest fire, the start of which is 
always a risk—the risk of its getting away 
and burning that which the fire fighters are 
seeking to protect. Only a small section at 
the edge of the forest was fired at first, Ham 
White standing guard with Stacy, ready to 
leap to the danger point if a blaze should begin 
creeping towards the village. 

Not a villager lifted a hand to assist, but 
loud protests were voiced when the pungent 
smoke from the burning’ grass settled over 
them. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


31 


“You will be in luck if you swallow nothing 
worse than smoke/ ’ Ham White flung back 
at them. 

There was something in this lithe, upstand¬ 
ing man of the forest that held the villagers 
back from taking matters into their own hands 
and driving the intruders from the place. He 
was everywhere, directing Hippy where to fire, 
advising the girls where to pour water, prod¬ 
ding Stacy Brown to keep that worthy from 
sitting down and shirking his share of the 
labor. 

Perspiration was standing out on every face, 
and every face was red from the heat of the 
flames that were rapidly eating their way to¬ 
wards the big trees in the background. Ham 
White wanted to fell those trees, but he could 
not do it alone, nor would the villagers do it 
for him, so he did what could be done, and was 
glad that he had such ready workers as the 
Overland Riders proved themselves to be. They 
were resourceful, too, and soon understanding 
what the guide was seeking to accomplish, went 
to it without further instruction. 

“Miss Briggs! ,, he called, and Elfreda was 
at his side in a moment. 

“What is it, Mr. White V 9 

“You are a level-headed woman—” 

“Thank you,” answered Elfreda smilingly, 


32 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


mopping the perspiration on her face into 
sooty streaks. 

‘ ‘ I wish you would go around the right-hand 
side of this burn. The smoke is blowing to¬ 
wards us now, so you will get little # odor from 
it. Go into the forest a little way and watch 
and listen and sniff. Watch the ground, not 
the sides. Any indications of fire that you dis¬ 
cover, hear or smell, let me know instantly .’ 9 

“ Thank you, Mr. White. Carrying water is 
not particularly inspiring. I am glad to do 
something that will occupy me more absorb¬ 
ingly. How shall I get back here if you fire the 
right-hand side you just mentioned?” 

“This side will be burned off by then, but 
don’t stand in one spot many seconds at a 
time when crossing it. You might burn your 
feet. Be careful that you don’t get lost. I 
trust you to take care of yourself. ’ ’ 

For a few brief seconds they held each 
other’s eyes, then Elfreda turned and walked 
briskly away. 

“Please, Hamilton, won’t you come back out 
of danger,” begged Emma, slipping an arm 
through his at this juncture. “I am terribly 
nervous, but I am demonstrating for you with 
every fiber of my being. ’ ’ 

“Go demonstrate on the villagers—do some¬ 
thing worth while, ’ ’ advised Stacy sourly. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 33 

“I will after this is finished—I’ll demon¬ 
strate over yon,” retorted Emma. 

The guide made no reply, but turned hack to 
his work. Elfreda had already disappeared 
from sight. Hers was a responsible post, and 
none knew that so well as Hamilton White 
himself, though Elfreda began to realize it when 
she found herself alone in the forest. With 
every sense on the alert, Elfreda devoted her¬ 
self to following Mr. White’s instructions. 
She could catch faint whiffs of smoke from the 
south, but could see no fire. At first, she 
thought the odor was from their own backfire, 
but after a little she was able to distinguish a 
difference in the odor coming from the south. 
It was more pungent, more overpowering, 
seeming to possess more substance, more body, 
than did the faint smoke from the grass fire 
that reached her nostrils. 

“I wonder if I had better run back and re¬ 
port? No. I will stay here until I have some¬ 
thing definite. I may be imagining.” 

Elfreda was now so far back in the forest 
that she could not hear the crackling of the 
grass backfire that Ham White had started, 
and she could but faintly hear the flow of Sil¬ 
ver Creek. Soon a few scattering “snow¬ 
flakes” began falling about her, and from the 
previous experience she knew what these 

3 - Grace Earlowe on Lost River 


34 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


meant. There was fire to the south, though it 
might be many miles away. Elfreda was not 
sufficiently familiar with forest fires to inter¬ 
pret these indications with certainty. 

A low, rumbling noise, that might have been 
distant thunder, caused her to listen attentively. 

4 ‘It might have been a train ,’ 9 she mur¬ 
mured, then instantly recalled that there was 
no railway within fifty miles. 

A breeze sprang up from the south and the 
tops of the trees bent under it ever so little. 
Then suddenly Elfreda Briggs witnessed a 
sight that, for the instant, paralyzed her— 
that prevented her from moving a muscle. 

What, at first sight, looked to be a shining 
serpent, was wriggling toward her, now and 
then breathing a little spurt of smoke. The 
“serpent” disappeared, and she then saw 
others, all wriggling, twisting, turning, dis¬ 
appearing, and suddenly appearing in another 
spot a few yards away. 

“Merciful heaven, what is it?” cried the 
Overland girl. 

A little pine tree, not more than two yards 
in height, suddenly became the victim of one 
of these shining “serpents” and burst into 
crackling flames and was consumed in a few 
minutes. 

“Fire!” cried the watcher. Elfreda turned, 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


35 


startled, and fled towards the “burn” that her 
companions had made. 

They saw her coming on fleet feet. Hamil¬ 
ton White waved to her to keep to the right, 
for the grass was still holding fire on the 
course she was following, but Elfreda took the 
gesture for a wave of welcome, and waved 
back. In the next second she saw the guide 
running towards her, followed by Grace. 

Elfreda darted ahead, and was nearly at the 
edge of the burn when she came up with them. 
To her amazement, the guide picked her up, 
then threw her flat on the ground. He rolled 
her over and over in the blackened ashes of the 
grass, Grace assisting by vigorous pats, for 
Elfreda’s skirt had caught fire. 

The blaze was out in a moment, and now the 
girl began to feel the sting of burns. Assisted 
to her feet Elfreda was a sight, her face, neck 
and arms black, little patches of white showing 
here and there, accentuating the blackness of 
the rest. 

“Quick, take her somewhere and look her 
over. Get oil from the store and put on her 
burns if she has any. Be lively. I—” 

“The fiery serpents are there!” gasped El¬ 
freda. 

“What!” demanded the guide. 

“They’re there, darting all around just be- 


36 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


yond the edge of the burn in the forest. I 
don’t know—I think—” 

“Take her away!” commanded White 
sternly. 

The gnide bounded across the burned space 
and plunged into the forest. He came back a 
few moments later, even more rapidly than he 
had gone out, never stopping until he reached 
the store porch. 

Something in Hamilton White’s attitude or 
in his expression silenced the villagers who 
had gone into spasms of laughter at Elfreda 
Briggs’ plight. 

“Men, the forest fire is yonder, less than an 
eighth of a mile away! ” he shouted. ‘ * It may 
not be too late to save the village, but I think 
it is. Get your women and children down to 
the bank of the creek. Bring water and wet 
down everything. Work, you thick-heads!” 

There were murmurs of objection. A puff of 
hot air was driven through the village, and a 
few moments later a blue haze settled over it. 
A great silence fell over the people. It was 
broken by a woman’s scream. 

“Fire!” yelled a man. 

“Fire! Fire! Fire!” 

The chorus was taken up by a hundred 
voices, and panic seized upon the inhabitants 
of Silver Creek. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


37 


CHAPTER III 

A RAIN OF FIRE 

U XX TET down the roofs of all the houses. 

Keep your heads or you’re gon¬ 
ers!” shouted Ham White. 

The Overlanders had grabbed pails and 
filled them from the creek, running with them 
to points where water soon would be needed. 
Stacy, however, with his usual disinclination 
to work, took it upon himself to boss the vil¬ 
lagers, which he did very well. He appeared 
to be not at all disturbed by the peril that men¬ 
aced them. 

The sky was now heavily overcast. To add 
to the gloom, daylight was fading with the 
prospect of a night of terror for the people of 
Silver Creek. The air grew hot and the pun¬ 
gent odor of smoke sent many into paroxysms 
of coughing. 

Hamilton White, cool and collected, was giv¬ 
ing terse orders here and there, and working 
with tireless energy. Hot puffs of wind drove 
through the village streets, and that, he knew, 
was the vanguard of what was to come. 


38 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


Men were working under difficulties but to 
good purpose, for the guide was directing the 
work of covering roofs with wet blankets, 
which were wet down as fast as water could 
be brought. The smoke grew more dense, more 
suffocating with the moments, and, somewhere 
off to the south, a roar like that of an ap¬ 
proaching storm was plainly heard. Ham 
White, hearing, understood. 

‘ 4 Look! Oh, look!” cried Nora Wingate. 

Great tongues of flame were seen leaping 
into the air high above the tree-tops of the for¬ 
est. Sparks and burning embers were now fall¬ 
ing in the village streets. Overhead the air 
itself seemed to be on fire. Sheets of flame 
were curling and rolling through the forest 
like breakers on a reef. At one moment the 
sky would be lighted up brilliantly, and in the 
next deep, impenetrable darkness covered all. 

The terror of the villagers increased, and the 
Overland girls, on their way to and fro for 
water, did what they could to calm the women, 
but without great success. To add to the ter¬ 
ror and the peril, the village was now sur¬ 
rounded with fire on three sides. It seemed 
to be growing more threatening with the mo¬ 
ments, and the clouds of soot became denser. 

“Oh, how terrible!” cried Nora to Grace 
Harlowe. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


39 


“Yes, but one of the most tremendous spec¬ 
tacles I have ever seen,” answered Grace, 
whose face, like all others about her, was so 
black as to be almost unrecognizable. 

In all the excitement, however, the two girls 
found time to observe and marvel. They saw 
streamers of fire appear to die out, and then 
charge forward toward the village at race-horse 
speed, threatening to envelop and devour it. 

The villagers started to run as their panic 
increased. 

“Stay where you are! You are safer here!” 
Ham White shouted in warning to all. 

Houses were now catching fire, despite all 
efforts, and men worked in a frenzy, for, if 
the fire once got a good start in the village, 
they now knew that it would be destroyed. 
Some of the cooler heads among the women 
lent much assistance to the Overlanders, but 
most of them were too terrified to give any 
assistance at all. 

“Some of these women surely will perish 
unless something is done at once,” said Miss 
Briggs. “Suggest something, Grace, for the 
love of heaven. ’ 9 

“The creek! Help me herd them down on 
its bank,” answered Grace with ready re¬ 
source. “Nora! You and Emma must assist. 
Don’t hesitate. Jump to it! There are men 


40 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


enough to carry water. Lives are of more ac¬ 
count than houses.” 

The girls sprang to their task with energy. 
It was not an easy task to which they had as¬ 
signed themselves, and the first of the women 
sent to the stream had to be forced there. 
There were choking protests, but the Overland 
girls gave no heed, as there was no time for 
argument, and seconds wasted might mean 
loss of lives. 

“If your clothes catch fire, duck into the 
creek, ” was the advice shouted over and over 
again to the village women by Grace and her 
companions. “Keep close to the shore or you 
may be swept ofi your feet and carried down¬ 
stream. ’ 9 

The latter part of the Overlanders ’ advice 
was not heeded in every instance, and now and 
then one of the girls found it necessary to 
haul ashore some woman who was in danger of 
being carried away by the current. 

As the heat in the village increased in in¬ 
tensity, shivering women and children were 
standing in the creek’s cold waters, protecting 
themselves from the burning air by covering 
their heads with wetted articles of clothing. 

Another peril found them there. Logs, 
broken, charred tree-limbs, were rolling and 
tumbling down with the stream. Something 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


41 


hit Elfreda, who was dragging a woman to 
safety, and pushed the girl under. Struggle 
as she would, Miss Briggs was unable for some 
time to extricate herself, though she did man¬ 
age to keep her head above water. Her skirts 
had caught on the branches of what proved to 
be the bushy top of a tree, and she was swept 
away on the current. 

After what seemed hours Elfreda succeeded 
in freeing herself, and permitted herself to 
float while she rested, breathing hard from her 
exertions. 

The village of Silver Creek had disappeared 
in the distance. A roaring sound came to El¬ 
freda ’s ears, which she soon discovered was 
caused by the rushing current of a turbulent 
river. 

“Mercy! What am I coming to?” cried the 
girl in her extremity. Elfreda was frightened, 
but by no means panic-stricken. “Oh, this 
surely is the end!” gasped the girl as she found 
herself suddenly whirled into wild waters. 

It was Roaring River into which Miss Briggs 
had been swept from the creek, and now her last 
hope seemed gone, for the stream was wide and 
full of floating logs and brush, and here and 
there dark objects brushed past her. The girl 
drifted on and on, chilled and exhausted, but 
still possessing a strength of will that kept her 


42 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


from letting go, as many another would have 
done in her circumstances. 

Of how long she had been in the water El- 
freda had not the slightest idea, but it seemed 
to have been hours, when suddenly she was 
halted by the roots of a tree on the bank of the 
river, from which the dirt had been washed 
away. 

Grasping at the roots, Miss Briggs clung 
there resting. After a little she dragged herself 
over the roots and finally reached soft yield¬ 
ing earth. 

i6 Thank God!” breathed Elfreda fervently, 
and stretching out she sank into a deep sleep 
of exhaustion. 

When Miss Briggs awakened from that sleep 
the sun was shining, but there was a yellow 
haze in the air, and the odor of smoke was 
wafted to her on the morning breeze. Birds 
were singing in the trees, and the earth seemed 
at peace. 

“J. Elfreda, you have done it this time!” 
she rebuked herself. “Why did you ever go 
into that terrible water ? Oh, what has become 
of the others? This will never do. I must do 
something!” she cried, rousing herself and 
standing up to look about her. 

What to do, was the perplexing question. 
It was then that Elfreda discovered a trail. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


43 


Trees along the trail had been blazed, but the 
blazes were not new. The path had been nsed 
frequently, she observed, and led into the 
forest. For that the Overland girl was 
thankful. 

After brief reflection, Miss Briggs decided 
to follow the trail that Fate had offered to her. 
It must lead somewhere, she reasoned. Had 
Elfreda been more familiar with life in the 
forest she would have known that this was 
either a trapper’s or a fisherman’s trail, but 
to her all forest blazes looked alike, so she 
plodded on slowly, keeping a sharp lookout for 
slashes on sides of the trees, and for signs of 
human habitation. 

When an hour had passed, and the trail still 
led on, the girl began to lose heart. She sank 
down to rest and think, but as she peered un¬ 
derneath the low-hanging branches of under¬ 
brush and saplings, Elfreda made a discovery 
that set her pulses beating. There, less than 
fifty yards ahead of her, she saw a shack, and 
about it was a hedge of evergreens that un¬ 
doubtedly had been placed there by human 
hands. 

“Saved!” cried Elfreda, springing to her 
feet, forgetful of the aches and pains of a few 
moments before. 

The Overland girl caught her breath sud- 


44 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


denly, and a rush of color leaped to her cheeks, 
for Elfreda Briggs had made another dis¬ 
covery, and with it came the realization that 
a most amazing thing had occurred. 

Uttering a shrill little cry, Elfreda started 
forward at a run. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


45 


CHAPTER IV 

THE LOST CABIN 


i ‘rnp HE village is saved!’ ’ 

Hamilton White, blackened, red¬ 
eyed, his clothing scorched, made 
that announcement as, at the break of day, he 
had opportunity to look about him. 

“Yes, and not a life lost,” agreed Grace 
Harlowe, herself worn out and disheveled. 
“It is a miracle. Mr. White, they should get 
down on their knees to thank you for what 
you have done for Silver Creek. Without your 
resourcefulness— Well, there would be noth¬ 
ing left of the village or people . 9 9 

“Thank you!” Ham White bowed and 
grinned through the soot on his face. “The 
credit is due wholly to the assistance of the 
Overlanders. In other words, the shoe is on 
the other foot.” 

“Well, what next?” demanded Hippy Win¬ 
gate coming up, Emma Dean following, and 
taking her place beside the guide. 

“Something to eat if we can find it, then to 
get out of here and to dodge what is left of the 


46 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


fire,’ 9 replied the guide. ‘ ‘ Suppose we go down 
to the creek and wash our faces.” 

“Get out of here!” jeered Hippy. “With 
what? I haven’t seen anything that looked 
like a horse since yesterday. I think our ani¬ 
mals must have gone downstream, and that 
we are all fixed for a long hike to some place 
where fresh mounts can be had.” 

“Oh, Hamilton! Is it really true that the 
ponies have run away?” begged Emma, link¬ 
ing arms with the guide. 

“Too true, little bird,” chuckled Hippy. 

“Thank you, Mr. Wingate. Being a bird is 
better than being a donkey,” answered Emma. 

“And hop from bough to bough, and chatter 
and then chatter some more,” finished Hippy. 

“While a donkey can only bray, and then 
bray some more,” was Emma’s parting shot, 
which brought a. shout* of laughter from the 
begrimed Overlanders. 

Hippy made a gesture of helpless resigna¬ 
tion, and turned to the guide to ask what they 
had better do. 

“We will find the stock somewhere to the 
northeast, provided they have been neither 
burned nor drowned. Stock have an instinct 
that tells them to seek high ground,” said the 
guide. “By the way, is Miss Briggs in one of 
the houses resting?” 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


47, 


“Elfreda!” cried Nora. 

The girls looked at each other with the same 
question in their eyes. None had seen her 
since the evening before, and in the excitement 
and confusion she had not been missed. 

1 i Girls, girls! Run!” cried Grace. “Go 
to every house in the village. She must be 
here! She must be here! Hippy! Mr. White! 
Please help us.” 

There was instant compliance, and half an 
hour later the Overlanders met in front of the 
post office. Grace was the only one of the party 
that had any information to convey. Grace 
had found the woman whom Miss Briggs had 
tried to rescue, and ascertained that the last 
that woman had seen of her was when Elfreda 
had given her a vigorous push towards the 
shore. 

For the first time since the Overlanders had 
known him, Ham White lost his composure. 
He steadied himself in a moment. Leaping to 
the steps of the store he shouted to the vil¬ 
lagers that were still thronging the streets. 

“Men!” he said. “These splendid young 
women have»helped to save your town and your 
women and children. One of the young women, 
Miss Briggs, is missing. She must be found, 
and I want you men to form a searching party. 
Get your breakfasts, but never mind anything 


48 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


else. If you are men, which I believe you to 
be, you won’t have to be urged. I’ll tell you, 
what to do. Will you go?” 

“Yes!” The answer was a shout. And 
Hamilton White smiled. 

The guide directed the girls to steady them¬ 
selves, and eat. As for himself, he wanted 
nothing to eat except what he could carry with 
him and munch on his way. White sent one 
searching party down each side of the creek, 
heading the party on the left side himself, with 
Lieutenant Hippy # Wingate leading the party 
on the right. 

“Do not worry if we aren’t back as quickly 
as you might hope for, as we shall be looking 
for stock—for our horses—at the same time,” 
he urged. 

“Oh, Hamilton, do be careful of yourself,” 
begged Emma as the men were starting away. 
“I shall demonstrate for you all the time you 
are away.” 

Grace linked an arm in Emma’s. 

“My dear, how long have you known Mr. 
White?” she asked gently. 

“It seems as though I have always known 
him,” answered Emma dreamily. 

“As a matter of fact, you have known him 
less than a week. It is true we took him on the 
recommendation of the banker at Cresco, where 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


4:9 


we made our start for the Cascade Range of 
Washington State, # and we know him to be a 
man of intelligence, a brave, resourceful fel¬ 
low, but there is still something about him that 
I do not understand. I don’t believe he is what 
he represents himself to be, but, if we should 
ever go out again, he is the man I should like 
to have lead us. Just the same, that is no rea¬ 
son why you should be so forward. Emma, 
well-bred girls are not supposed to wear their 
hearts on their sleeves. Be a good fellow, 
which you are, but be dignified,” admonished 
Grace smilingly. 

“I am and I do,” answered Miss Dean 
haughtily. 

“Now let us forget our little lecture, and do 
what we can to assist the women of the village 
to get set, so to speak,” suggested Grace. “We 
must not worry about Elfreda. I believe we 
shall find her and that she is as safe at this 
moment as we are.” 

“I’ll demonstrate over her. I’ll keep say¬ 
ing to myself, 1 Elfreda is well and happy. No 
harm can come to her because only error can 
mean harm,’ ” promised Emma, bubbling and 
laughing. 

“Come,” said Grace. “Demonstrate after 
we have given some material aid to these dis¬ 
tressed people.” 

4 - Grace Earlowe on Lost River 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


50 

It was about this time that Elfreda reached 
the shack in the forest and made the discovery 
that so startled her. Elfreda’s amazement 
was caused by the sight of a human being, sit¬ 
ting on a stump near the shack. The human 
being was short and fat. He was eating from 
a can of baked beans, his big eyes regarding 
Miss Briggs soulfully, his cheeks puffed out 
with the beans. 

‘ ‘ Stacy ! 9 9 cried Elfreda. ‘ 1 Oh, Stacy Brown! 
Am I dreaming V 9 

“Mebby,” mumbled the fat boy, digging 
more beans from the can. 

Elfreda ran to him, and in her joy at see¬ 
ing her Overland companion, she threw her 
arms about Stacy. In doing so she knocked 
the can of beans from his hands, and the rest 
of the contents was spilled on the ground. 

“Now see what youVe done,” wailed the fat 
boy. “And the beanery fifty miles away.” 

“Never mind the beans. What is this 
place?” 

“Lost cabin,” answered Stacy promptly. 

“How do you know?” 

“I don’t. I just guessed it. Hungry?” 

“Famished,” answered J. Elfreda. 

“Some more canned stuff under the floor of 
the shack,” he informed her, waving a hand 
towards the cabin, and picking up the spilled 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


51 

beans one by one, placing each individual bean 
carefully in bis mouth. 

‘ ‘ First tell me how you got here ? ’’ demanded 
Miss Briggs. 

“Came down on a Roaring River Liner— 
other words, a log. Where’s the party?” 

11 Trying to put out the fire at Silver Creek. 
Shall we try to find our way back?” 

“WLat! With all that food cached in the 
shack?” demanded Stacy almost indignantly. 
“So long as the food holds out and no fire 
comes along, I stay right here. I know a good 
thing when I find it. After I get enough to 
keep my strength up I am going down to the 
river and catch some fish. Then we will have 
a real spread.” 

“Hopeless!” exclaimed Elfreda. “I am 
glad to see you, though. I think you are right 
about remaining here for the day. When the 
fire is under control our folks will search for 
us, and Mr. WLite will pick up our trail.” 

“Yes. I left ‘feetprints’ in the river when 
the log rolled me off. Did you ever observe 
how wonderfully prominent ‘feetprints’ in the 
water are, Elfreda?” 

Elfreda gave her head a toss and walked to 
the cabin. It was a typical forest shack. 
There was a plain deal table, two chairs, a bed 
on the floor and blankets hung over a line. The 


52 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


dishes were limited, but sufficient for one or 
two persons. She investigated an opening in 
the floor, from which Stacy had lifted the trap 
door, and found there a good supply of canned 
goods, some rope, axes, picks and shovels. 

“A forest ranger’s shack,” she murmured. 
“Yes, I think that must be it.” Elfreda helped 
herself to a can of beans, surveyed it ruefully 
and carried it outside. 

“Have you the can-opener, Stacy?” she 
asked. 

Stacy shook his head. 

“How did you open your cans then!” 
Several empty cans lay about the stump on 
which he was sitting. 

4 ‘ With my teeth. Bit ’em open! ’ ’ said the fat 
boy thickly. 

“Stacy Brown, you are impossible! I think 
I know a better way.” Elfreda got an axe 
from the shack and attacked the can of beans. 
She made a bad job of it, and most of the beans 
that were not mashed flat were scattered 
about on the ground. These, the fat boy 
gathered up carefully and placed in his own 
can. 

“Get another can. I’m busy, but I will open 
it for you. Girls are so helpless.” 

“I am beginning to agree with you,” an¬ 
swered Miss Briggs, returning to the cabin for 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


53 


another can. When she came hack Stacy re¬ 
moved the top of the can with his knife, and 
handed the food to her. 

“For this, you buy me a new knife when we 
reach a store somewhere. Knives cost money, 
and I can’t afford to waste mine on girls.” 

“You shall have a new knife, and thank you 
very much for your courtesy,” returned El- 
freda. 

Stacy gave her a sidelong glance. 

“You look all fagged out. After you finish 
that can, better go in and lie down. Besides, 
it won’t do to overload your stomach so soon 
after a bath.” 

“Oh, you funny boy!” Elfreda laughed 
until two tear drops were sparkling on her 
brown cheeks. “If you will catch some fish I 
promise to cook them for you, and we will have 
a real spread. Yes, I will take a nap, for I am 
completely fagged. Did you discover any 
coffee in the shack?” 

“Uh-huh. I didn’t have time to make coffee. 
I’m too busy to do so now.” 

Miss Briggs went to the shack, spread out 
the blankets for inspection, and found them 
clean; so she laid them on the bed and stretched 
out for a rest. Until then she had not realized 
how weary she was, and, in a few moments, 
fell into a deep sleep. 


54 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


After a time Stacy took a nap by the stump, 
from which he did not awaken until late in the 
afternoon. He did not know what time it was, 
his watch having stopped on his wet ride from 
the village of Silver Creek. The fat boy de¬ 
cided to go fishing. There was a bamboo pole, 
hook and line in the shack, and this he got, 
after taking a squint at the sleeping Elfreda. 

“Girls are such sleepy-heads,” muttered the 
boy, as he shouldered the pole and went out, 
making all the noise he could, all of which 
failed to awaken Miss Briggs. On the way to 
the stream he looked for a rotting stump, one 
of which he eventually found, and with his 
hunting knife managed to dig out some nice 
white grubs for bait. 

‘ ‘ Humph! They do look almost good enough 
to eat,” he muttered, surveying some of the 
grubs in the palm of his hand. “I don’t blame 
the fish for liking them.” 

Shortly after that the fat boy sat down on 
the bank with his line in the water, thoroughly 
at peace with the world, and content to remain 
where he was so long as the food held out. 

Stacy had not been fishing long when he 
heard a horse approaching, but did not turn 
his head, his eyes remaining fixed on the fish 
line that caused a little ripple in the stream 
as it split the current. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


55 


“Hello, boy!” called a voice behind him. 

“Same to yon,” returned Stacy. 

“Fishing?” 

“No. Just teaching this grub how to swim.” 

“Say, you! You’re too fresh. I’ve a good 
mind to throw you into the river/’ growled the 
newcomer. 

“Better not. I’ll get wet.” 

“Where do you come from?” demanded the 
man, his voice sharp and incisive. 

“Up Silver Creek way. I came down here 
on the river packet to get away from the forest 
fire. ’ ’ 

“I mean, where do you live?” 

“Right here at the present moment. I don’t 
look as if I were dead, do I ? ” 

“You may be soon if you ain’t more civil. 
k Wbat happened to the village?” 

1€ Some people got singed, others got wet. I 
got a little of both before I shipped.” 

The man got down from his horse and 
stepped around where he could see the fat boy’s 
face. Stacy gave him a slow, sidelong glance, 
then turned his attention to his line. He had 
a bite, and a few seconds later he landed a fish. 

“Huh!” grunted the stranger. “Anybody 
with you?” 

“A few grubs in my pocket and myself, 
that’s all. Who are you?” 


56 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“None of your business!” 

Stacy regarded the stranger blinkingly. The 
fellow was not a pleasant-looking man, and a 
scar across one cheek gave him a still more 
evil look. The horse he rode, Stacy observed, 
was a fine animal and looked as though it could 
develop a lot of speed. 

“Where’d you get the nag?” questioned the 
boy. 

“Bought him. Didn’t think I stole him, did 
you?” demanded the man indignantly. 

Stacy shrugged his shoulders, but made no 
reply. He resumed his fishing. 

“Let me give you some advice, young fellow. 
This is no place for children. You git out of 
here, and stay out. I’ll be back later, and if 
you’re here then I’ll help you out on the run.” 

“Thanks,” drawled the fat boy without look¬ 
ing up. 

The stranger rode away, and Stacy resumed 
his fishing. He caught a fine mess of trout; 
then the grubs gave out. Being too tired to 
return to the shack just then the Overlander 
decided to take a nap, which he proceeded to 
do. Night came on, and Stacy Brown was 
still asleep. So was Elfreda Briggs, in the 
shack. Miss Briggs had not moved since she 
lay down hours before. 

It was late when she finally suddenly roused 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 57 

herself and sat up. The cabin was enshrouded 
in darkness. Peering out, she saw that it was 
night. 

“Stacy!” she called. There was no re¬ 
sponse. Stacy Brown was sleeping peacefully 
on the bank of Roaring River. 

Elfreda wondered what had awakened her so 
suddenly. Then all at once she understood. 
She heard a horse approaching. The animal 
stopped just beyond the cabin. Miss Briggs 
did not go to the door, but got to her feet and 
listened. She thought she heard someone 
groan; then all was silence for a moment. 

“Oh!” exclaimed the Overland girl under 
her breath as the door of the shack was slowly 
pushed open. “Who is it?” she cried, with all 
the steadiness that she could summon. Miss 
Briggs reached for her revolver, but it was not 
in its holster. 

A man staggered in. She could see his figure 
faintly outlined in the doorway. 

16 Help! I’m shot—I ’m dying! ’ ’ groaned the 
man, and collapsed at the feet of Elfreda 
Briggs. 


58 GRACE HARLOWE ON 


CHAPTER Jj 

A FRUITLESS QUESTJ 

RACE! Oh, Grace!” 

I "j* After several hours of hard work 
assisting the women of the village to 
untangle the confusion of their homes, the con¬ 
tents of most of which were in the streets, 
Nora came running in search of Grace Har- 
lowe. 

‘ ‘What is wrong, Nora?” begged Grace a 
little fearfully. 

“Have you seen Stacy?” 

‘‘No. Come to think of it, I have not. Why, 
I haven't seen him since last night, either.” 

“Neither has anyone else, so far as I have 
been able to learn.” 

“Are you positive that he did not go out with 
the men this morning?” asked Grace. 

“They say he did not.” 

“Chunky”—as his companions sometimes 
called him—“is probably asleep somewhere 
about,” suggested Emma Dean. “You know 
what a wonderful sleeper he is.” 

“I doubt it,” answered Grace reflectively. 
“Was he in the creek?” 


THE LOST EIYER TRAIL 


59 


Nora said she did not know, 

i c That makes two of our party that are miss¬ 
ing. What are we going to do?” begged Nora, 
tears of anxiety springing to her eyes. 

“We will search for him in the vicinity of the 
village. That is all we can do. If we do not 
find him we simply shall have to wait until the 
men return to-night,” decided Grace. 

“If Hamilton were only here he would know 
what is best,” complained Emma. 

Grace gave her a look of rebuke. 

“Mr. White probably will find the boy. He 
will leave nothing undone, of that we girls are 
certain, and we shall have to make the best of 
a bad situation, which may not be nearly so bad 
as it seems,” comforted Grace. “Come, let us 
take different directions and search the vil¬ 
lage and its immediate vicinity.” 

“I have another one to demonstrate over 
now. I don’t want to demonstrate over 
Chunky, but I suppose it wouldn’t be honest 
not to,” complained Emma. “This is ter¬ 
rible.” 

The girls separated and made a careful 
search about the village and out among the 
trees, as far from the village as they dared to 
go. There were still many little smouldering 
fires, but there was so little for them to feed 
upon that they could not spread. 


60 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


Not a trace of the missing boy did the girls 
find, though there was plenty of tragic evidence 
of the deadly work of the forest fire every¬ 
where they went. The girls returned, giving 
up the task. 

“We must wait, and go on with our work. 
It will help to keep our minds from our worries. 
My husband would be a great comfort if he 
were here, for Tom is ever ready and resource¬ 
ful,’ ’ murmured Grace. 

“He is no better than Hamilton,” protested 
Emma indignantly. “What Hamilton doesn’t 
know about everything up here isn’t worth 
knowing. ’ ’ 

The girls laughed at Emma, who turned 
away, face flushed and eyes moist. They busied 
themselves all the rest of the day, but when 
night came on, the searchers had not returned. 
Shortly after nine o’clock, however, a shout 
told the anxious Overlanders that someone was 
approaching. It proved to be Hippy Wingate 
and his party. Hippy reported that they had 
not found a trace of Elfreda Briggs. He was 
shocked when he learned that Stacy also was 
missing. 

It was an hour later when Hamilton White 
and his party of searchers came in. They were 
leading a bunch of horses. 

“We got them all but one, folks,” he cried 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


61 


as the villagers and the Overlanders crowded 
about him and his party. 

44 But Miss Briggs!” wailed Nora Wingate. 
“Don’t tell me that—” 

“She was not found on the left-hand side of 
the river. We followed Roaring River down 
to a point about fifteen miles below here. As 
you see, we got all the mounts but one, and that 
one evidently was swept away, else he would 
have been with his mates. ’ ’ 

White was speaking more rapidly than was 
his wont, and Grace was regarding him keenly. 

“Did you know that Stacy Brown is missing 
also?” she asked. 

The guide regarded her for a moment. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Don’t be dis¬ 
heartened, Mrs. Gray. To-morrow I shall take 
the other side of the river and stay out until I 
get a definite line on what has happened. It 
would have been useless to remain out longer 
to-night. ’ ’ 

After a little, when he had answered many 
questions, White beckoned Grace aside. 

“You are a level-headed woman, Mrs. Gray, 
so I think it best to tell you what I have dis¬ 
covered. I—” 

“I knew you were keeping something back. 
Tell me. The truth is better than the sus¬ 
pense.” 


62 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“No, I don’t agree with you. I found Miss 
Briggs’ hat and her handkerchief on my side 
of the river. The men with me do not know 
this. The current on my side of the stream 
set into a bend at one point, then switched over 
to the right-hand side. That is why I am going 
down the right-hand side to-morrow. To me 
the finding of the hat is proof that our miss¬ 
ing woman was really swept downstream, but 
my confidence in Miss Briggs’ cool-headedness 
is so strong that I believe she found a way to 
get out of the river.” 

‘ 4 1 hope so, ’ ’ replied Grace quietly. ‘ 6 By the 
same token, I think we shall find Stacy. If he 
succeeds in finding something to eat, he will 
remain where the food is until it is exhausted,” 
she added with a little smile. 

“Just so,” agreed the guide. “I am more 
disturbed about possible peril to Miss Briggs 
after she escaped from the river.” 

“Meaning what!” demanded Grace. 

“That there is danger to the north of us— 
a peril worse than forest fires or wild beasts.” 

“Yes, yes!” urged Grace. 

“I mean the Murrays.” 

Grace said she never had heard of them. 

“They are notorious bandits, cutthroats, 
robbers, everything that is vicious. Did Miss 
Briggs wear any jewels!” 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


63 


“She did—a diamond ring that is quite val¬ 
uable, and a jewelled watch that was presented 
to her by the French government after she 
finished her work there with our college unit 
in the war.” 

‘ 1 They would kill for less than that! ’ 9 was the 
disturbing announcement of Hamilton White, 
as he turned abruptly away. 

Ham White did not wait until morning to 
resume his search. After taking a light supper, 
and packing some “grub” in his kit bag, he 
quietly forded the creek with one of the Over¬ 
land ponies, then disappeared in the darkness, 
headed downstream. Only Lieutenant Hippy 
Wingate knew that he had gone. Ham White 
was headed towards an adventure that proved 
to be a thrilling one, both for himself and 
others. 


64 GEACE HAELOWE ON 


CHAPTEE VI 

FACING A NEW PERIL 

4 4 C! —SHOT! ’ 9 gasped Elfreda Briggs, 

as the stranger lay huddled on the floor 
where he had fallen. He was breathing 
heavily, and perhaps it was this that brought 
Miss Briggs to herself. After long service 
with wounded men in France, she knew what a 
bullet wound was, and her first instinct upon 
recovering from her fright was to give first aid. 

Elfreda had found candles and matches in 
the cabin, and these she quickly procured, light¬ 
ing two candles the better to see her patient. 
She peered down at her unexpected guest, a 
long, lean figure, his lined, unshaven face ashen 
from pain and weakness. Elfreda instantly 
recognized the symptoms. 

“Oh, you poor, poor man!” she cried in a 
voice full of sympathy, and placed a folded 
blanket under his head. Then the Overland girl 
ran out to a spring just back of the cabin, 
returning with a basin of cold mountain water. 
First giving the wounded man a drink, she tore 
open the faded, worn shirt and bathed his 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 65 

wound, which she knew at once was a serious 
one. 

This served to rouse the patient a little, and 
he regarded her with searching eyes—eyes that 
were full of pain. 

“Tha—ank you. You’re a good girl. What 
be you doing here?” 

“I belong to a party, but was carried down 
the river from Silver Creek village when the 
forest fire reached there. Never mind that— 
tell me about yourself.” 

“The gang got me—Hawk Murray’s gang. 
Name’s Sam Petersen, and I’m a prospector— 
was a prospector, but I’m done, finished now.” 

“WTiy did they shoot you?” 

“For gold, Miss, gold! But I hung on to 
my horse and got away. They’ll be here.” 

Elfreda begged him not to worry, seeing that 
the thought of the Murray gang excited him. 

“Promise me, for your own sake, that you 
will not let them find me or know that I have 
been here. If they find out they’ll do the same 
by you that they have done by Sam Petersen.” 

Miss Briggs caressed the gray head, and 
moistened his lips with the cold mountain 
water. Then, as tenderly as possible, she 
dragged the wounded man to the bunk at one 
corner of the room, where he might be more 
comfortable. 

5 - Grace Earlowe on Lost River 


66 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“It’s mighty good to have you help me, hut 
tain’t no use. I’ve staked my last claim and— 
listen!” Petersen roused himself, and a new 
light flashed into his eyes. “I must tell you, 
and I must do it quick. Reach in my pocket 
and take out the diary there. Hide it I Left 
hand po—pocket. That’s it.” 

Elfreda hesitatingly drew forth a well-worn 
book, the corners of which were broken down 
and the leaves swollen from frequent thumbing. 

“There’s something else there, too. Take 
that, too; it’s your’n.” 

The Overland girl drew forth a small canvas 
bag, soiled and worn, and heavy. It was tied 
at the neck with a buckskin thong, and at his 
nod she opened the bag. She saw a handful 
of nuggets, some worn and shiny, water-worn 
as they proved to be, while at the bottom of 
the bag was some dust. 

“Gold!” murmured Elfreda Briggs. “Is 
this why they shot you, Mr. Petersen?” 

“Yes, and for what’s in that diary. Mebby 
you’ve heard of Lost Mine, a dried-up water 
course that the Indians say many years ago 
was paved with gold.” 

Elfreda shook her head. 

“Crazy prospectors like Sam Petersen have 
been hunting for that mine for more’n twenty- 
five years. Sam Petersen found it!” The 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


67 


man’s voice had dropped to a thrilling whisper. 
A dead silence followed, broken by the hoot of 
an owl near the cabin. 

Elfreda shivered a little. 

“It’s there in the hook—all bnt how to get 
there. Hawk Murray and his gang found out 
that I’d got this bag of dust and nuggets. 
They knew I’d been prospecting for just what 
they’d been trying for a long time to find, and 
they believed I’d found it. Hawk and his bunch 
trailed me, and we had a shooting match. 
I downed one of the gang, but Hawk got me. 
Lady, I ain’t a bad man—I’m an honest man, 
but up here a man’s what he is, and if he ain’t 
able to shuffle for himself he’s all set to be 
shuffled off one day.” 

“You are talking too much—exerting too 
much effort. Be quiet and rest,” commanded 
Elfreda. 

“I got to talk. I got to talk fast. I ain’t 
got much more time. Write down in the book 
what I got to say. Ready?” 

Miss Briggs nodded. “Lost River, north 
branch, Grandma and the Children, three 
peaks dead east—and there’s the bed of Lost 
River. In it is gold, shining gold, the promised 
land and—it’s yours. I ain’t got no family.” 

“I don’t quite understand. Can you make 
it a little clearer?” 


68 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“All yours and—” 

“Please don’t talk any more. I want you 
to rest. You are getting excited. What is 
gold compared to a man’s life, Mr. Petersen?” 

There was no reply. 

Elfreda Briggs glanced at the face, then, 
leaning over, peered closer. 

* ‘ Get rid of the horse—shoot him. They ’ll he 
here soon after daylight and then—” 

That was all. The tired old voice trailed off 
into nothingness. Sam Petersen had staked 
his last claim. 

Tears trickled down Elfreda’s cheeks. A 
thin gray bar of daylight was now creeping 
across the cabin floor, and with it came the 
memory of the old prospector’s warning: 
“The Murray gang will be here soon after 
daylight”—and then—“Get rid of the horse!” 

Realizing that perhaps her own life might 
hang on following Petersen’s advice, Miss 
Briggs sprang up and ran out. Standing 
a few yards from the cabin, there was a fine 
bay mare browsing on the tender leaves of the 
hedge. The animal regarded her solemnly, 
and, she thought, with a friendly approving 
look. 

“You poor horse! Shoot you? I couldn’t 
do it, but I am going to try to hide you,” de¬ 
clared the Overland girl. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


69 


Gripping the bridle she led the animal off 
to the right of the cabin until she reached 
a stream. Into this she led the animal for 
some distance, and secreted him in a narrow 
pass that was well hidden. 

“I think I will take the saddle and hide 
that,” reflected Elfreda. Upon second thought 
she decided to carry it hack and hide it near the 
cabin, for she recognized it as a fine Mexican 
saddle. The saddle she did secrete in a thick 
growth of bushes about fifty yards from the 
shack. 

As she approached the cabin her footsteps 
became halting. 

“What if they should come and find him 
here? Oh, this is terrible. Where, where can 
Stacy be? Why doesn’t he come back?” 

It was not a pleasant task that confronted 
Elfreda Briggs, but she went to it with lips set, 
face pale, and heart beating nervously. She 
covered the thin old frame of Sam Petersen, 
and over it laid the blankets. 

“Oh, this is terrible,” moaned the girl, then 
grew suddenly rigid. The sound of approach¬ 
ing horses reached her alert ears as she stood 
in the middle of the floor, every faculty on the 
alert. 

They galloped up to the shack and halted. 

“Hello the cabin!” called a rough voice. 


70 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


Miss Briggs pinched her cheeks to bring back 
the color that she knew had left them, then 
summoning all her courage she stepped to the 
door. That courage almost failed her when 
she saw before her six of the roughest looking 
men she ever had seen. They were mounted 
on lean, tough horses; there was a rifle in 
every saddle boot, and they wore side arms as 
well. 

4 ‘The Murrays ! 97 gasped the girl. 1 ‘Sam 
Petersen knew whereof he spoke. "■ 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


71 


CHAPTER VH 

THE DISCOVERY 

**"1" TAWK MURRAY!” exclaimed Elfreda 

I A Briggs, as one of the horsemen rode 
around the hedge and up to the door 
of the cabin. Elfreda recognized the man by 
his long hooked nose that really resembled the 
beak of a hawk. It was not a pleasant face to 
look upon. 

“Mornin’, Miss,” he greeted, with an at¬ 
tempt at politeness. 

“Good morning, sir,” replied Miss Briggs 
firmly, essaying a smile as she said it, though 
she did not feel like smiling, for the eyes of the 
rider seemed to be searching her very soul. 

“Do ye live here?” was the next question. 

“For the present, yes.” 

“Ye don’t reckon ye’ve seen a stranger on a 
bay mare passin’ here this mornin’, do ye?” he 
questioned, leaning over and peering into the 
face of the Overland girl. 

“No, sir. No one has passed here, so far as 
I know, since daylight. I don’t know who 
passed before that. k Why do you ask?” 


72 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“We’re a posse on the track of a hoss thief. 
The hay mare he rode was stole, and some gold 
he had was stole, too.” 

“Indeed!” observed Elfreda. 

“We trailed the thief this way, hut hack a 
piece we kind of lost the trail,’’ volunteered 
the Hawk, grinning apologetically. “Be ye 
alone?” 

“Oh, no. I am with a party. They are not 
here now, hut I look for them to arrive 
shortly,” she answered, trying hard not to ap¬ 
pear disturbed. 

“Well, so long. We’ll be on our way.” The 
man swung off his hat and, wheeling his horse 
about, jogged along. Her heart sank as she 
saw that the riders were taking a direction, 
which, if followed on, would lead perilously 
close to the spot at which she had secreted 
Sam Petersen’s horse. She regarded each man 
keenly as they passed her, and theirs she saw 
on close inspection were hard, callous, reckless 
faces. There was coldness, there was daring, 
in them. 

The last man in the line, younger than his 
companions, while his face was also cold, ap¬ 
peared to be of a character different from the 
others. There was a poise of the head, a grace 
in riding, and in the manner with which he 
bowed as he swung his hat low, that singled him 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


73 


out as a man somewhat above his fellows, in 
intelligence at least. 

The riders were out of sight in a moment, 
and, with their passing, Elfreda Briggs’ knees 
grew suddenly weak. She staggered into the 
cabin and sat down heavily. 

“Had they come in I don’t know what I 
should have done, ’’ murmured the girl, placing 
a hand on the diary that she had hidden in her 
blouse. The bag of nuggets and “dust” lay 
in plain sight near the bunk on which Sam 
Petersen lay. Elfreda hurriedly sprang up 
and secreted the bag under the blankets. Then 
a sudden thought came to her. She recalled 
that the old prospector wore a holster, and that 
she had noticed the size of the revolver butt 
that protruded from it. Instant determination 
to possess herself of the weapon seized her. 

“They will return! I feel it!” she cried. 

It took but a moment to get the weapon 
and the cartridge belt, to both of which the 
girl gave critical inspection, for Elfreda had 
handled revolvers, both in Prance in wartime, 
and on their annual summer outings in the 
saddle. The weapon w r as loaded, and several 
rounds of cartridges still remained in the belt. 

‘ ‘ There! ’ ’ she exclaimed, after strapping the 
holster on. “I at least have the means of de¬ 
fending myself. Hark! ’ 9 


74 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


Hoof-beats were plainly audible, but they 
seemed to be those of only one horse. A glance 
through the doorway, without revealing her¬ 
self, verified this. 

“It’s the good-looking one,” breathed El- 
freda, retiring into the shadows and giving her 
holster a shift. “I must go out. It never will 
do to let that man come into the cabin,” she 
decided as she stepped to the door with an ex¬ 
pression of surprised inquiry in her eyes. 

“Ye didn’t think I’d be back so soon, did 
ye?” he grinned. 

“I don’t think I looked for you to return,” 
Elfreda replied. “What is it you wish?” 

“I reckoned as I’d like a drink of water.” 

“Wait. I will fetch a dipper. The spring is 
just beyond the stump over yonder.” Elfreda 
was out with a dipper in her hand in a moment, 
and held it up to him, but the rider did not take 
it. He swung from the saddle and stood lean¬ 
ing against his mount, regarding her with 
something like a twinkle in his eyes. Elfreda 
saw that twinkle and was reassured. 

“I see ye’ve got your hardware on,” he said, 
pointing to the revolver. “Purty sizable gun 
for a lady, eh? Ye didn’t have it on when I 
was here before.” 

“Perhaps I was expecting more company 
after you went off. Wliy do you ask?” 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


75 


The rider shrugged his shoulders. 

“Reckon I’ll take that dipper now,” he said, 
extending a hand for it. Elfreda gave it to 
him, and keen as his eyes were, it is doubtful if 
he discovered the fear that Elfreda felt. After 
stepping back she got a broom and began 
sweeping up the cabin floor, which she was 
still doing when the man returned from the 
spring. Hearing him coming, she stepped out¬ 
side. 

“Thankee,” he said, returning the dipper. 

“What would ye say, lady, if I told ye I 
wanted to search the shack 1” he asked. 

“I should say no!” was the emphatic reply. 

“And what if I decided to do it anyhow?” 
grinned the mountain rider. 

“I’d shoot you!” she answered coldly. 

“Sufferin’ cats! I believe ye would. Never 
can tell what these quiet kind might do. Can 
I have a look at the little toy?” he teased. 

“You may look at the muzzle, if you wish.” 

The fellow laughed and slapped his thigh. 

“Ye’re a cool one, I’ll tell them all.” 

“Thank you.” Elfreda was covertly watch¬ 
ing every movement of her caller, every ex¬ 
pression of face and eyes, and she could not but 
feel that he was unusually confident about 
something. Rack her brain as she might, she 
could not think what that something might be, 


76 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


unless Hawk’s party had discovered the bay 
mare, which she did not believe was a fact, 
for the party had swerved off to the right after 
leaving the vicinity of the forest cabin. 

‘ 1 If I reckerlect, lady, ye told the boss that 
ye hadn’t seen any strangers hereabouts— 
a fellow on a bay mare, an old party and a 
tough one.” 

“I told you no one had passed here, and to 
the latter part of your question I am free to 
say that your party included the only ‘tough 
ones’ I have seen since coming into the forest.” 

“ So! I reckon I see the p ’int. Lady, what 
about that saddle over there in the brush?” 

Elfreda could feel her face going pale. 

“The—the saddle!” she gasped, but in¬ 
stantly recovered herself. “What saddle do 
you mean?” 

“I mean Sam Petersen’s saddle. I’d know 
that leather among all the rest in the Cascade 
range. He stole that, too. Now where’s the 
bay mare? He sure didn’t ride her away with¬ 
out the saddle. ’ ’ 

“Find him, if you want to know. Don’t ask 
me! As for the saddle that you say is over 
yonder in the brush, draw whatever conclu¬ 
sions you wish. Is that all? If so, I have work 
to do and will go to it,” announced J. Elfreda 
with great dignity. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


77 


“I reckon that’s ’bout all, ’cept that I’d 
like to look over that shack.” 

“Very well, you may step up to the door and 
look in, but no farther if you value your life,” 
replied Elfreda, turning her back on him and 
stepping through the doorway. 

The visitor was not slow to accept the invi¬ 
tation. He reached the threshold, and was 
about to stride into the cabin when he sud¬ 
denly found himself facing the old prospector’s 
revolver, held in the steady hand of Elfreda 
Briggs. 

“You may take a look at the revolver now 
if you like,” she offered. “Stay where you 
are!” 

A glint came into the man’s eyes, a glint of 
danger, but it faded and he laughed. 

“Very neat, Miss. I think I’ll take a look at. 
that bunk over there, and that there hole in the 
floor with the trap door in it.” 

“Out! Instantly!” Elfreda’s voice rang 
out with a new note in it. 

The unwelcome guest’s hand sagged slowly; 
towards his own holster. 

“Hands up! Quick!” 

The man obeyed, his eyes never leaving hers, 
nor did Elfreda’s eyes leave those of her caller. 
While he undoubtedly, with his long experi¬ 
ence in quick work, could have dodged and 


78 


GRACE HARLOWE 


drawn and fired ere Miss Briggs was able to 
prevent it, he did not do so. Perhaps he feared 
that she might hit his horse instead of him¬ 
self, for that animal was directly in range 
with her weapon. 

“Mount! Leave this place instantly! If you 
attempt to interfere with me you will do so at 
your peril!” she warned. 

“Farewell, lady,” he answered mockingly. 
“I shall see ye just the same, and ye will an¬ 
swer my questions next time.” The fellow 
swung into his saddle, Miss Briggs still keep¬ 
ing her weapon trained on him as she followed 
him out. 

Then she saw the man suddenly stiffen in 
his saddle, and what followed came at such 
speed that she- was dazed. The fellow’s re¬ 
volver leaped, it seemed to her, from its hol¬ 
ster and met his hand half way. There was a 
sudden report, and a faint puff of grayish 
smoke from the muzzle. 

A fraction of a second, after the report of 
his weapon, brought a shot from somewhere to 
the left of the Overland girl. The bandit’s 
horse jumped, and to Elfreda it w T as plain that 
the animal had been hit. It reared, and its 
rider toppled over and plunged backwards to 
the ground. 

“He’s killed!” cried Miss Briggs, dropping 


























80 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


her own weapon and running to the prostrate 
bandit who lay where he had fallen, his face 
turned to one side, and half hidden by his som¬ 
brero. She gave no thought to the peril that 
she might be inviting by aiding the ruffian. 
Her one thought was to give aid. 

The girl was bending over him, when, in a 
flash, the fellow was on his feet, and two sin¬ 
ewy hands had grabbed her arms and whirled 
her about in the direction of the shot that had 
been fired at him. Elfreda Briggs had walked 
into a trap! 

That was not all. A report at her ear was 
followed by another and another. The bandit 
was shooting over her shoulder, using the Over¬ 
land girl as a shield. 

There were no answering shots, nor could 
Elfreda see what the bandit had been shooting 
at, but she stood frozen, while he, alert and 
cool, kept his gaze fixed on a clump of bushes 
a few dozen yards ahead of them. 

Elfreda had not uttered a sound. She was 
trembling, but rather than have the man using 
her as a shield know this she summoned all her 
will power and gained control of herself. 

The bandit fired again. The shooting, so 
close to her ear, fairly deafened her. Elfreda 
had another cause for worry, for she did not 
knov^ at what instant the bandit’s enemy might 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


81 


conclude to fire again. To a person in her posi¬ 
tion, that was not a comforting thought. No 
answering shot came, and the girl drew a long 
breath of relief. 

Not a word had passed between them up to 
this point, but now she spoke. 

“You coward!” breathed Elfreda. 

“Had to do it,” was the brief reply. 

“You will pay dearly for this,” she threat¬ 
ened. 

“Shut up! I’ll give ye a clout over the head 
if ye don’t, and I’d hate to do that to a purty 
gal like—” Bang ! 

The bandit fired. Then a strange thing hap¬ 
pened, and Elfreda was hurled forward on her 
face with unexpected violence. 


6— ( —Grace Earlowe on Lost River 


82 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


CHAPTER VIII 

STACY TAKES A HAND 

«TI TOW! Ill show you that you can’t 
V/V/ steal my beans and my fish! ’ ’ yelled 
an angry voice behind Miss Briggs. 

The outlaw was pulling himself together and 
unsteadily getting to his feet just as Elfreda 
sprang to hers. Then there sounded a sudden 
whack, a grunt, and the bandit again measured 
his length on the ground, after receiving an¬ 
other blow on the head. 

“Stacy! Stacy Brown!” cried Elfreda, for 
it was Stacy who had stolen up behind the ban¬ 
dit and clouted the outlaw on the head with a 
stick just after the fellow had fired his last 
shot. 

Ere the man had fully recovered from this 
last whack, Chunky had sprung forward and 
snatched up the bandit’s weapon. 

4 ‘Now you get out of this before I get mad. 
I’m only out of patience now, but when I’m 
mad I’m a dangerous man. Get!” 

With his own revolver trained on him, the 
bandit evidently considered prudence the wise 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


83 


course. He had not yet fully recovered from 
Stacy’s last wallop, and staggered as he ran 
to his horse. As he swung into his saddle, a 
shot from somewhere brought a grunt from the 
fellow, and the Overlander saw the bandit shud¬ 
der. 

“ Don’t shoot! He’s hit,” warned Elfreda. 

“I didn’t shoot this time. It was someone 
else, ’ ’ flung back the boy. 44 You move, and you 
move fast. And next time you steal a fellow’s 
beans and fish, you pick out some fellow who’ll 
stand for it!” 

The outlaw rode away at a brisk gallop, 
swaying a little in his saddle, still consider¬ 
ably dazed from Stacy’s two wallops, and in 
pain from the bullet that had hit him. 

44 Stacy! Oh, Stacy!” cried Elfreda, run¬ 
ning to the boy and throwing both arms about 
him. 44 You wonderful boy! I never thought 
you had such courage.” 

44 Courage? I’m a hero! I always was. All 
I needed was the opportunity to show that I 
am. I ought to have a medal.” 

4 4 You shall have one. Do—do you think he 
will come back?” she asked with an apprehen¬ 
sive glance in the direction taken by the outlaw. 

4 4 Come back? Why, I should say he 
wouldn’t. That fellow is scared stiff. You 
couldn’t drag him back here.” 


84 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“ There are others, Stacy. You don’t know 
all. They were all here, and after they went 
away he came back and—” 

“Others?” Stacy’s face went solemn. 
that’s the case, I reckon we’d better run while 
the running is good.” 

“I can’t, not yet. I must talk with you. 
There is something to be done before we leave. 
But you were so brave, and all the time you 
were hiding behind the bushes, letting that 
desperate fellow shoot at you without your 
firing a shot fearing that you might hit me. 
It was wonderful! "What did you mean when 
you accused the man of stealing your fish—had 
you seen him before!” 

“Of course I had seen him. He tried to in¬ 
terfere with me while I was fishing for a mess 
of trout for you yesterday afternoon. I did 
get a mess of them, beauties, too,” declared 
Stacy boastfully. “I finally got tired; the bait 
gave out, so I ate part of a can of beans and 
lay down for a nap. Well, I didn’t wake up, I 
guess, until this morning. The fish were gone, 
and so were the rest of the beans. I tell you 
I was good and angry. When I got here you 
were having your misunderstanding with the 
ruffian. ’ ’ 

“And you really were in those bushes shoot¬ 
ing at him?” 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


85 - 


‘ ‘ I was in the bushes all right.’ ’ 

“But who fired that last shot that hit him?” 
demanded Miss Briggs suddenly, regarding; 
her companion narrowly. 

“The—the sec— That’s so. I wonder who 
did. He was some shooter. But listen! I 
know. It must have been one of that fiend’s 
friends shooting at me. He didn’t hit the fellow 
he fired at. Isn’t that a good joke on the fellow 
in the bushes, and on the one that got hit!” 
cried the fat hoy, his assurance returning- 
“Tell me what has happened here.” Stacy 
was stalking back and forth twirling the out¬ 
law’s weapon on his finger. 

“Come with me to the shack and I will tell 
you. Tragedy, not comedy, has come to this 
place. I would have given anything could you, 
have been here to help me, for, Stacy, I needed 
help as I never in my life needed it before.. 
Listen, for we must lose no time in doing what 
we have to do, and then get away from this, 
unhappy spot.” 

They were in the cabin by this time. 

“A man came here last night, wounded and 
faint. I tried to help him, but he was beyond 
help. Stacy, the poor fellow died. Those 
ruffians had shot him. I do not think the man 
who shot him was the one who made a shield of 
me, but it was one of the same gang.” 


86 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“Di—died!” gasped Stacy. 

“Yes, in a few minutes after he got here. 
I have his horse hidden some little distance 
from here.” 

“Whe—whe—where is he?” 

“There!” she announced gently, pointing to 
the bunk. “We can’t leave him there, Stacy. 
There is something to be done, and I just can’t 
bring myself to do it.” 

Stacy, his eyes large and round, backed 
hurriedly from the shack. 

“Come on out. I can’t talk in there any 
more,” he urged, and Elfreda joined him at 
once. “Let me think. I can’t do it, either. I 
can fight a bad man, or wild animals, but 
this—this I—I can’t. Why did they shoot 
him?” 

‘ i They said he was a horse thief, but I know 
better. He possessed information that they 
wanted. This fellow that you sent away found 
the man’s saddle, though I don’t know how 
he chanced to discover it. The horse he may 
have discovered also, but I hardly think so. 
If not, we can take the animal and try to find 
our way back to Silver Creek. ’ ’ 

“Yes. Let’s find the horse. We can send 
Ham White back to do what you said. Where 
is the horse?” 

“We will go look for him, but we must 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


87 


proceed with caution,” said Elfreda. 1 6 Take 
your revolver and I will take mine. You fall 
in behind. I will lead because I know the way. ’ ’ 

Stacy did not appear to relish the mission at 
all, but he relished still less being left alone at 
the cabin, so he followed along obediently. 
Elfreda proceeded with great caution, w r atching 
the ground and the surrounding forest. 

“Keep perfectly quiet,” she warned, as they 
neared the spot where the horse had been se¬ 
creted. “Stay where you are,” added El¬ 
freda in a whisper, then crept forward. 

“This is spooky,” muttered the fat boy. “I 
don’t like what I can’t see.” 

“Stacy!” There was alarm in Elfreda’s 
voice. “Come here!” 

He did not move as rapidly as he might, but 
a few moments later was standing at her side, 
and Stacy blinked as his gaze followed the 
direction in which she pointed. 

A handsome bay mare lay dead in the se¬ 
cluded spot. It was the horse that Sam Peter¬ 
sen had left in her charge. 

1 ‘ Shot! The brutes! ’ ’ cried Elfreda. * ‘ They 
have shot her. Well, perhaps that is better. 
Mr. Petersen asked me to dispose of the animal 
or hide her. What a pity!” 

“I call it a good riddance. Say, Elfreda, 
you don’t suppose any of that gang are hanging 


88 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


around here, do you?” questioned Stacy appre¬ 
hensively. 

“Gracious! I hope not. Come, let us get 
away from this place.” 

Stacy was quite ready to move, and took the 
lead, Elfreda following. They lost no time in 
getting back to the cabin, but, as they ap¬ 
proached, Stacy again began to lag. 

‘‘Aren’t we going down to the river and try 
to find our way back to our party?” he asked 
as his companion started to enter the cottage. 

“Not yet. I have something to do in here 
first,” she made reply. “Oh!” Elfreda 
sprang back. 

“Wha—wha—what!” 

“There’s someone in there,” she whispered. 

“Oh, wow!” Stacy jumped and started off. 

Elfreda looked her disgust, and, summoning 
her courage, stepped into the cabin. 

“Who is it?” she demanded. 

‘ ‘ I was waiting to see how steady your nerves 
are,” answered a voice that brought a thrill to 
her. A man rose and stepped towards her. 

“Mr. White! Stacy, come in, it’s all right,” 
she called, a happier note in her voice. ‘ ‘ I am 
so glad to see you, for I need you.” Elfreda 
shook hands with the guide. “How long have 
you been here?” 

“I came in just a moment ago. My horse is 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


89 


down near the river, where I picked np your » 
trail and came up here. What has been going 
on here? I believe there was some shooting 
up this way. So it sounded to me.” 

“The Murrays have been here, and, had it 
not been for Stacy, I fear something serious 
might have happened to me. Stacy really saved 
me, even going so far as to let one of the out¬ 
laws shoot at him. Would you think, from 
what you have seen of him, that Stacy is brave 
enough to fight a duel with one of that gang?” 

Ham White looked solemn and shook his 
head. 

“Our party is very much worried about you, 
Miss Briggs—” 

“Oh, are they all right?” cried the Overland 
girl, flushing at thought of her forgetfulness. 

“Every one of them, but we must get back 
to them as soon as possible. Tell me the story . 9 y 

Elfreda then related the whole story of her 
experiences, passing briefly over her trip down 
the creek and the river, and relating the story 
of the arrival of Sam Petersen and his death, 
omitting the incident of the diary, as well as 
the story of the lost mine and the bag of nug¬ 
gets and dust. 

“Died here? Where is—” 

‘ ‘ There! ’ ’ answered the girl in a low voice, 
pointing to the bunk. “You and Stacy will 


90 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


please do what is necessary. I could do it if I 
had to, but so long as you are here it is better 
not.” 

“What did the ruffian who came back here 
look like ? ’ ’ 

Miss Briggs described the man in detail. 

“That was Two-gun Murray, one of the most 
notorious gun-fighters on the range. He has 
more brains than his brother, Hawk Mur¬ 
ray, and some personal charm, but he is a cold¬ 
blooded ruffian. Is he the fellow you saw down 
by the river, that Miss Briggs has told me 
about?” questioned White, turning to Stacy. 

“Yes. And he is the fellow who stole my fish 
and ate my beans,” complained the boy. 

“I wonder what that crowd was after Sam 
Petersen for?” reflected the guide, regarding 
the two Overlanders from beneath half-closed 
eyelids. 

“He had something that they wanted—infor¬ 
mation or something of the sort,” murmured 
Miss Briggs. Elfreda was not yet ready to 
confide in the guide. She wished for time to 
think over carefully what Petersen had told 
her, and to examine his diary critically. 

“I don’t quite get it, but I will,” he replied. 

Ham White got up briskly. 

“Come, Stacy. Let us do our duty.” 

“Just a moment,” begged Elfreda. “I wish 


THE LOST EIVER TRAIL 


91 


to do something here first. Will you two 
please step outsider’ 

The guide gave her a quick look, and his face 
hardened ever so little. He bowed and walked 
from the cabin. The instant he was out of 
sight, Miss Briggs got the bag of gold and 
secreted it in her blouse. 

“Mr. White, I am going out in the forest to 
think, while you are busy here,” she added, 
stepping from the cabin. Elfreda’s face was 
flushed. Hamilton White regarded her nar¬ 
rowly but merely nodded in reply to her an¬ 
nouncement. That nod was cold, and Miss 
Briggs realized it. Her head was held a little 
higher as she walked away, though she knew 
that self-imagined guilt was at the back of her 
annoyance. 

Ham White knew that there was some pur¬ 
pose in the Overland girl’s remaining in the 
cabin for a few moments; perhaps he came 
nearer to knowing her purpose than Elfreda 
imagined. 

The girl sat down under a tree and thought. 
The bag of gold in her blouse troubled her. 
Elfreda took it out and emptied the contents in 
her lap. Apparently a small fortune lay there, 
but, as she gathered up a handful of the con¬ 
tents of the bag, Elfreda Briggs made a ter¬ 
rible discovery. 


92 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


CHAPTER IX 

MYSTERIES MULTIPLY 

“11 VTISS BRIGGS, do you feel equal to 

IV/1 starting back to Silver Creek V* 
questioned the guide as she re¬ 
turned. “The sooner we get away from here 
the better it may be for us.” 

“Yes. Anything to get away from this haunt 
of tragedy. How far are we from there?” 

“About thirty-five kilometers, I should say, 
though it may be more.” 

Elfreda glanced at him quickly. 

“Were you in service in France during the 
war ?’ ’ she questioned. 

“Yes.” 

4 ‘ May I ask in what capacity ? You know the 
girls of this party were there with the Overton 
College unit.” 

“I was with the signal corps. To return to 
the subject of our journey, I have a horse a 
short distance from here. You may ride him, 
and Mr. Brown and I will walk.” 

‘ ‘ Walk! Walk thirty-five mile s ? ” demanded 
Stacy in a tone that was almost a wail. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


93 


“I said thirty-five kilometers, not thirty-five 
miles/’ corrected the guide. 

“I don’t care which it is; thirty-five of any¬ 
thing is too far for me. I can’t walk. I have a 
sore finger. I stuck it on a fishhook yester- 
day,” protested the fat boy. 

“Very well, you may remain here if you 
wish. Come, Miss Briggs. We must take along 
some of the provisions that are in the cabin.” 

“Mr. White found those too,” thought El- 
freda, then aloud: “Have we the right to do 
that?” 

“Within reason, yes. This is a forest ran¬ 
ger’s cabin, and one is free to help himself.” 

Stacy ran in and filled his pockets with cans, 
and the guide took a can of beans for himself 
and one for Miss Briggs, directing Stacy to put 
back all but one of those he had taken. The 
three then set out at a brisk walk, and at about 
a mile from the cabin they turned off, and soon 
found the horse, on which they placed the Over¬ 
land girl. After mounting, she secretly tucked 
the canvas bag into the saddle pocket. 

It was a relief to Elfreda not to have to 
walk, and further, it gave her opportunity to 
study the wiry figure of Hamilton White as 
he strode along in the rear of Stacy, whom he 
was urging along, much to that young man’s 
freely voiced disgust. 


94 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


Shortly after noon they stopped to water the 
horse and to give the rider an opportunity to 
rest. They then pressed on, for the way was 
rough and progress slow. It was near night 
when they came within hailing distance of 
Silver Creek village, and a great shout vrent up 
from the Overlanders when they saw Elfreda. 

During the absence of the guide, the Over- 
landers’ missing horse had come in, enabling 
the Overland Riders to resume their journey 
to the Cascade Range. It was an evening of 
rejoicing for them, in which the villagers 
joined, for the young women of the Overland 
party had been of great assistance to them 
in their trouble. Not alone that, but it was 
freely admitted that Ham White and the Over¬ 
landers had saved the village from destruction. 

Early on the following morning, after bidding 
good-bye to the villagers, the Overlanders rode 
away. On the way, Miss Briggs told her com¬ 
panions of her experiences during her absence, 
omitting any reference to the bag of gold and 
the diary. Even Hamilton White had no idea 
that she possessed it, so far as she was aware, 
though Elfreda was not so certain that he did 
not suspect her having the bag of gold. 

It was noticed by at least one of the party 
that Miss Briggs and the guide had little to say 
to each other that day; in fact, they seemed to 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


95 


avoid each other. Not so with Emma Dean, 
who kept as close to Hamilton "White as she 
conld, hanging on his words and showing her 
keen interest in him in the expression of her 
eyes. At supper that evening, however, El- 
freda asked him a direct question. 

i ‘ Mr. White, have you ever heard of a stream 
known as Lost River ?” she asked. 

“I have,” spoke up Stacy Brown. “I fell 
in it the other night when they had the fire¬ 
works at Silver Creek village.” 

“I believe there is an old Indian legend of 
some sort about Lost River—something to do 
with gold or silver,” replied the guide, giving 
her a swift, appraising glance. 

“Is there such a thing as an Indian legend 
about ‘Grandma and the Children’?” per¬ 
sisted Elfreda. 

“Ha, ha! That’s a good one. Did they fall 
into the foaming flood also?” demanded 
Chunky in a loud voice. 

“Children should be seen and not heard,” 
rebuked Emma sternly. 

“Is that why you are so quiet to-day, Miss 
Dean?” asked the boy. 

“I am quiet, Stacy Brown, because you so 
disturb the atmosphere that one has to shout 
to make herself heard at all,” returned Emma 
with great dignity. 


96 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


The Overlanders laughed heartily. 

“I reckon that will hold you for a few mo¬ 
ments,’ ’ interjected Hippy Wingate. “Got 
anything more to say on the subject, young 
man?” 

“Not a word.” 

Stacy did not even join in the laugh that fol¬ 
lowed. 

By this time they had finished their supper, 
and Elfreda nodded to Grace to indicate that 
she wished to speak with her, and the two 
strolled off without attracting attention. They 
were soon out of earshot, and Grace suggested 
that they go no farther. 

“Now what is it that is troubling you, J. 
Elfreda?” she asked. 

“I have a guilty conscience, dear Loyal- 
heart, and I must confess to you.” 

“I knew you had something on your mind,” 
nodded Grace. “So far as concerns your hav¬ 
ing a guilty conscience, that is impossible. You 
only imagine it.” 

“After you have heard my story you will 
think differently. Grace, you don’t know all 
that took place in the forest cabin—all that 
occurred in connection with the death of the 
old prospector.” Elfreda then related the 
story in detail, giving the real reason, as told 
to her by Petersen, for the attack of the 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 97 

Murrays. “Have you your lamp, your pocket 
lamp?” 

Grace produced her flashlight, and Miss 
Briggs, taking it from her, turned a bar of 
light on the diary that she had removed from 
her blouse. 

“This is it, Grace, and here are the notes I 
made of what Mr. Petersen told me. I haven’t 
read the writing in Mr. Petersen’s diary—I 
haven’t had the heart or the inclination to do 
so. I feel like a thief.” 

“Elfreda!” rebuked Grace. 

‘ ‘ Then you think I have a right to keep this 
—this thing?” 

“Why not? You say he has no family, no 
relatives. What you have shown me is, in 
reality, the will of a dying man. He gave you 
what he had in payment for your kindness to 
him. So far as his story of finding the lost 
mine is concerned, I am inclined to think it a 
myth. At any rate, don’t trouble your head 
over the matter any more. The chances are 
that, even if the mine really exists, we never 
shall find it, but when Tom joins us in the Cas¬ 
cades I will lay the facts before him. Tom 
knows this country pretty well. That is why 
the Government is employing him to make a 
timber survey, and at the same time, to look 
into some other matters.” 

7- Grace Earlovje on Lost River 


98 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“But, Grace, this is going to be a terrible 
weight on my mind,” protested Elfreda. 

“And you a successful lawyer!” laughed 
Grace. “I never thought that a lawyer could 
be so conscientious. And think of the romance 
of all this, ’’ went on Grace Harlowe with grow¬ 
ing enthusiasm. “Have you no romance in 
your soul?” 

Miss Briggs shook her head. 

“ It is not given to many girls to play a lead¬ 
ing part in a search for a lost gold mine. Even 
the suggestion of courting peril ought to ap¬ 
peal to you, Elfreda. I should like to go 
through the diary with care. I don’t like doing 
that now when we can’t see about us, as we 
have reason to believe that there may be people 
in this vicinity who would stop at nothing to 
obtain possession of it. Of course, we are safe 
here, though. What about the bag of nuggets 
and dust that Petersen gave you?” 

“I have the bag. The contents I threw 
away.” 

‘ ‘ Elfreda Briggs! ’ ’ cried Grace indignantly. 
“Threw away a bag of gold nuggets and gold 
dust! Are you crazy?” 

“I may be, Grace dear. When I opened the 
bag, after putting Mr. Petersen’s horse away, 
I found that it contained nothing but worth¬ 
less quartz rock. There was no gold there. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


99 


The nuggets and gold dust had been taken out. 
Someone had stolen the nuggets and dust in 
the short time that I was away from the 
shack . 9 9 

Grace uttered an exclamation. 

“When Stacy and I returned to the shack, 
we found Mr. White sitting in the cabin. I 
asked him to go outside for a moment, and 
while he was away I got the bag. Then I made 
an excuse for going out into the forest. On 
emptying the contents of the bag into my lap 
I found that I was the proud possessor of only 
a bag of worthless stones!” 

“Elfreda! You don’t mean to infer that Mr. 
White took it—you can’t think such a terrible 
thing of him!” begged Grace. 

“I don’t know what to think. He was there;, 
he has acted peculiarly ever since, and has 
avoided me. Isn’t it a natural thing for me 
at least to wonder?” demanded Miss Briggs. 

“Elfreda Briggs, I am amazed!” cried Grace 
Harlowe. “Is that why you have been so cold 
and distant towards the guide? He does not 
deserve such treatment. Were I in your place 
I should, in the light of what you have told me, 
tell him the story that you have related to me.” 

“No, no!” Elfreda said with strong em¬ 
phasis. “I have no reason for confiding in 
anyone but you. Neither shall I do anything 


100 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


farther in this matter. Gold mines—gold 
doesn’t bring happiness. Quite the contrary, 
so far as my experience goes.” 

“Yes, that is true, but after one has found 
happiness, gold is a mighty good thing to keep 
that happiness from getting wobbly. I—” 
Grace paused abruptly. She thought she had 
heard a sound close at hand. Grabbing the 
flashlight, she swung the bar of light about 
with one hand, the other hand holding the pros¬ 
pector’s diary. 

An amazing thing occurred. 

The prospector’s diary was whisked away 
from Grace Harlowe, leaving in her hand only 
a leaf out of it that she had held between her 
fingers. 

“Overland!” It was the shrill rallying cry 
of the Overland Riders, and hearing it, they 
sprang to their feet and ran up, as Grace Har¬ 
lowe ’s cry for assistance was echoing through 
the forest. 

Ham White reached the two girls first, call¬ 
ing out his name as he charged to them. 

“What is it?” he demanded. 

“Someone was here, Mr. Wliite. At least 
someone or something snatched a book out of 
my hands. I saw no one, but am positive that 
I heard someone just before the occurrence,” 
Grace informed him. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


101 


The rest of the party, with the exception of 
Stacy Brown, were on the scene a moment or 
so later, each with an eager question. 

4 ‘Why, Hamilton, you went out that way a 
few moments before the girls were disturbed. 
Didn’t you see anyone?” wondered Emma. 

The guide shook his head. He was regard¬ 
ing Grace and Elfreda with a curious expres¬ 
sion on his face as they came within range of 
the campfire. 

“Was the book of value?” he asked, meeting 
Miss Briggs’ eyes. She returned his gaze with 
a level glance. 

“It may have been, Mr. White,” replied the 
girl, turning away. 

Grace laughed. The incident had not dis¬ 
turbed her, but the mystery of it did. That a 
prowler could get so close to her without at¬ 
tracting her attention hurt her pride. Her 
companions were much more upset than was 
either of the two active participants. Stacy 
slept through it all, and did not awaken until 
morning. 

It was some time after that before the camp 
settled down for the night, but the guide sat 
in the shadows, smoking his pipe and thinking. 

“Did you hear what Emma said?” ques¬ 
tioned Elfreda in a whisper to Grace as they 
snuggled under their blankets. 


102 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“About what?” 

“About Mr. White. It seems he may have 
been somewhere near us out there.” 

“This affair has several queer phases,” 
admitted Grace. 

“I don’t care. I’m glad the diary is out of 
my hands; now I can wash them of it all, and 
my conscience at the same time. My gold mine 
has gone a-glimmering.” Elfreda laughed, 
but without much mirth. 

“My dear J. Elfreda, you are not going to 
get off so easily. Here is the page on which you 
wrote the location of the gold mine at Mr. 
Petersen’s direction. I had the leaf in my hand 
when the book was snatched away, and it just 
tore itself loose and remained with me. So you 
see you are still fated to be a millionaire. 
Reason will tell you that the book may not be 
of value to the possessor.” 

Miss Briggs asked why. 

“Because,” replied Grace, “there can be 
nothing very definite in the diary or it would 
not have been necessary for Mr. Petersen to 
give you the definite directions that he did. 
The matter of real value, you will find, is on 
the sheet that I still have. I’ll give it to you in 
the morning. My advice to you is to commit 
those lines to memory, and then burn the slip 
of paper.” 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


103 


“Yes. I will burn it all right,’’ agreed Miss 
Briggs. “Don’t say gold to me again to-night. 
I wish to sleep—to sleep peacefully.” Elfreda 
made good her word on the following morning, 
and destroyed the slip of paper. 

Before the others were awake the guide went 
out and was away from the camp for more than 
an hour. He was just returning when Hippy 
Wingate came out. 

“Find anything exciting this morning?” 
asked Hippy jovially. 

“Yes. Someone was prowling about the 
camp last night. I found the spot where the 
young ladies were sitting, and I also found the 
imprints of booted feet. About a quarter of a 
mile to the west of us a horse was tethered, 
and the fellow who was here undoubtedly rode 
it, and went north, after leaving this vicinity. 
Is it your wish that I run his trail out, Lieu¬ 
tenant ? ’ ’ 

“No. What’s the use? If he is particularly 
interested in us he will come again, and maybe 
he will come once too often and get caught,” 
suggested Hippy. 

The guide bowed and went about getting 
breakfast. The party was in their saddles at 
an early hour, turning their faces toward the 
north, and the Cascade Range, which was their 
destination. It was a glorious day, and even 


104 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


Hamilton White thawed under the sweet lure 
of the forest, and talked forest and woodcraft 
to his party. 

They camped that night in a rocky pass, well 
sheltered, and with a mountain stream at their 
feet. Everyone was tired, and chilled from the 
mist that was settling over the pass. Before 
anything else was done, a fire was built and 
coffee prepared by the girls. Then Ham White 
began making camp, and Stacy and Lieutenant 
Wingate cared for the horses. 

Stacy, very proud of his saddle, which he 
had ridden for a long time, in fact ever since 
he had ridden with the Pony Rider Boys on 
their many adventurous journeys, brought the 
saddle in and threw it down near the fire. 
Something fell out of the saddle pocket. Stacy 
picked it up and looked at the object frown- 
ingly. 

“What’s that?” demanded Grace a little 
sharply. 

“That? I’m blest if I know,” answered 
Stacy, his face showing some perplexity. 

Grace took the object from him, glanced into 
it, and looking up at Elfreda, laughed. 

“Here is the book—the diary,” announced 
Grace, extending it to Miss Briggs. “Re¬ 
member what I told you last night? Did 
I not say that you would not get off so easily? 


THE LOST EIVEE TEAIL 


105 


Stacy, how did you come by this?” demanded 
the Overland girl, turning to the fat boy. 

44 What’s all the fuss about? I picked it 
up when I went after my horse this morning 
and forgot all about it. Why the excitement ? ’ ’ 

44 There is no excitement,” answered Miss 
Briggs with dignity as she tucked the old pros¬ 
pector’s diary into her blouse. 4 4 Mr. White, 
Mr. Brown found the missing book and has re¬ 
turned it to us.” 

Before anyone could comment on the find 
or ask questions about it, Ham White held up 
a hand for silence. 

From far away came a shot. After a lit¬ 
tle it was followed by two shots, an interval 
and one shot. 

44 A signal,” announced the guide. 

Hippy Wingate raised his revolver to fire. 

4 4 Stop! ’ 9 commanded Ham White. 4 4 Let the 
other fellow do the shooting. We aren’t 
certain that we want to know him.” There 
was meaning in the guide’s words, a warning, 
and the Overlanders fell silent. There was 
also the vivid memory with Elfreda and Grace 
of the mysterious hand that had snatched 
the prospector’s diary, and both girls felt an 
intuition of other mysteries to come. 


106 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


CHAPTER X 

THE MAN EBOM SEATTLE 

“C'l OMEONE is coming,” announced Grace, 
when, half an hour later, her keen ears 
detected a sound, faint, though unmis¬ 
takable. She was the only one of the party to 
hear it at that instant, though a moment later 
the guide nodded. 

The Overlanders saw him hitch his revolver 
holster into convenient position as he stood 
up and leaned easily against a tree. 

“As I was saying,” he began. ‘‘Sometimes 
it rains and sometimes it snows, and—” 

“Hands up!” rang out a sudden command. 
“Put ’em up till I look you over.” 

Stacy Brown was the only one of the party 
that obeyed the command. The Overlanders 
were too much interested in the newcomer to 
obey the command, for he was fantastically 
clad. The fellow was holding two revolvers 
which he kept moving from side to side, his 
keen eyes regarding the party appraisingly 
as well as alertly. It was his clothing that at¬ 
tracted most attention, for the man was dressed 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


107 


like a Mexican rancher, with the velvet jacket, 
embroidered with silver, the broad sombrero, 
likewise embellished with silver, and the faint 
metallic tinkle of silver spurs was heard as 
he shifted his position. 

The keen expression in his eyes changed to 
a twinkle. 

* i Well, well, who would have thought it!” 
he exclaimed. “A bunch of foozleheads.” 

“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Stacy Brown. 
“Foozleheads! That is a brand new one. 
Emma, he is looking at you.” 

The newcomer lowered his weapons and 
shoved them into their holsters. 

“Well, who are you?” demanded Ham 
White. “You appear to be a new specimen up 
here.” 

“Who, me? Haven’t you heard of me? I’m 
Jim Haley, sole representative of the Inter¬ 
national Peanut Company in the State of 
Washington. I’m known as the Man from 
Seattle, and I’ll have peanuts in every home, 
in every bandit cave in the great preserves of 
the State, and all over the rugged peaks of the 
Cascades if I hold out long enough. Peanuts 
are a great civilizer; they are the oil on troubled 
waters, and if the wild men up here were to eat 
enough of them I’ll guarantee that they never 
would hold up another unfortunate traveler.” 


108 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


1 1 Bandits ?” questioned the guide, regard¬ 
ing the visitor narrowly. 

“Yes. They’ve held me up twice in twenty- 
four hours, and the last time they took my horse 
aw T ay.” 

“It strikes me that you are quite handy with 
hold-up methods yourself,” observed Hippy 
Wingate. 

“Peanuts? Peanuts?” demanded Stacy ea¬ 
gerly. ‘ 4 Got any with you ? ’ 9 

“It will be my everlasting regret that I have 
not. You see I ate up most of my samples, 
then the bandits took the rest of them. This is 
a rotten country. I had to get food, and when I 
smelled your smoke I took a chance, not know¬ 
ing whether or not I was running into another 
bunch of bandits, and here I am, safe and 
sound. Luck is with the Man from Seattle, the 
greatest peanut salesman in the world. I’ll 
have a cup of coffee, if you please, and anything 
else that’s lying around loose, then I shall be 
delighted to take your orders for peanuts to 
be delivered at your homes, freight paid, and an 
extra bag gratis for good luck.” 

“Why, certainly, you shall have something 
to eat,” promised Grace. “Girls, help me 
rustle some grub for our caller. Were you 
lost?” 

“Lost? Why, I’ve never found myself since 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


109 


I came into the forest. How could a man, who 
never has known where he was at, be lost? 
Been held up by these mountain ruffians yet?” 

The Overlanders shook their heads. 

“They are so sudden. Why, they wouldn’t 
even give me an opportunity to demonstrate—” 

“Demonstrate!” cried Emma with sudden 
interest. “Do you demonstrate, Mr. Hart—” 

“Haley, if you please,” interjected the new¬ 
comer. 

“Really, do you, Mr. Haley?” 

“Of course I do.” 

“Isn’t that perfectly lovely! You see, girls, 
I am not the only one that demonstrates to 
ward off trouble. Just think, think hard, that 
something you desire very much, will be, and 
it will be. ’ ’ 

The Man from Seattle looked puzzled for a 
moment, then he laughed heartily. 

“Demonstrate a bag of peanuts for me, 
then,” spoke up Stacy Brown. 

“That’s it, young man—it’s peanuts that I 
demonstrate. I’ll see that you get a fair sam¬ 
ple when I get back to Seattle,” promised 
Haley. 

“Oh, fudge! Everything is food with you, 
Stacy Brown. Why can’t you be less gross, 
and more spiritual?” complained Emma. 

“I presume it is the company I keep, and—” 


110 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


‘‘Your supper is ready, Mr. Haley,’* called 
Grace. 

The peanut man did full justice to the meal 
prepared for him, and, while he ate, the Over¬ 
landers plied him with questions. Ham White 
sat back and regarded their guest with interest. 
White was keen, and little escaped his alert 
eyes. 

“That fellow is bluffing!” was his* mental 
comment. 6 i I wonder what his game is . 9 ’ 

“Now that you have no horse, what are you 
going to do!” asked Hippy. 

“Sell peanuts! I’ll take your orders now.” 

The peanut man did, and when he had fin¬ 
ished, each member of the party had given him 
an order for a bag of peanuts, Stacy being the 
only one whose order was a gift. From then 
on until bedtime the visitor rattled on, keep¬ 
ing the party convulsed with laughter. In the 
conversations that followed the evening’s en¬ 
tertainment, Jim Haley succeeded in drawing 
from them the story of their experiences in the 
brief time that they had been out, and dis¬ 
covered that he was not talking with green¬ 
horns. 

Mr. Haley was particularly interested in 
Miss Briggs’ experiences with the bandits at 
the ranger cabin, and questioned her in detail 
as to the appearances of the riders. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


111 


“Probably the same fellows that held me 
up,” he observed, stroking his chin. “You 
say the old prospector had something that they 
wanted to get possession of?” he asked, turn¬ 
ing to Elfreda. 

She answered with a slight incline of the 
head. 

“What was it?” The question was direct 
and incisively put. 

“Being a lawyer, and having my client’s in¬ 
terests at heart, I decline to permit her to an¬ 
swer,” returned Elfreda, which brought a 
hearty laugh from the party, Jim Haley laugh¬ 
ing more loudly than any of the others. 

Hamilton White’s face hardened ever so 
little. 

“Your questions are rather personal, and I 
must ask you to be more discreet, ’ ’ he rebuked. 

“A thousand pardons!” bowed the visitor. 
“For this indiscretion, I shall include some 
handsome oil paintings, which we give only to 
big jobbers with large orders for International 
Peanuts Products, when I fill the orders you 
have been so magnanimous as to favor me 
with. ’ ’ 

“That’s a mighty indigestible word, that 
magnanimous thing. Don’t put anything like 
that in the shipment with my peanuts,” de¬ 
clared Stacy. 


112 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“Yon don’t mean to say you don’t know the 
meaning of that word?” exclaimed Nora. 

“ Can’t say that I do,” answered Stacy care¬ 
lessly. ‘‘What does it mean, Emma?” 

“Your education has been neglected. Any 
schoolboy ought to know the meaning of a word 
so common as that,” returned Emma airily. 

“All right, you tell us. I’ll swallow what¬ 
ever you say—once! ’ ’ 

“Why, magnanimous means—it means—it 
means— Pshaw, I know what it means per¬ 
fectly well, but somehow I can’t properly ex¬ 
plain it.” Emma’s face was growing red. 
“Oh, Hamilton, you tell my ignorant compan¬ 
ion what—” 

“Ha, ha, ha!” chortled the fat boy. “You 
tell him, Hamilton.” 

Grace and Elfreda were laughing immoder¬ 
ately, and Hippy was chuckling to himself. All 
knew that Miss Dean knew the meaning of the 
word, but that Stacy, with his question, had 
confused her. 

‘ ‘ I believe the dictionary explains it as being 
elevated in soul,” answered the guide smil¬ 
ingly. 

“Oh, Hamilton, isn’t that wonderful?” 
breathed Emma. “It sounds so utterly 
poetic.” 

“You wouldn’t think so were you to swallow 


THE LOST EIVER TRAIL 


113 


it with a bag of peanuts,’’ grumbled the fat 
boy. 

And after the laughter bad subsided, Grace 
announced that she was tired and said she 
would turn in. 

‘To we make an early start in the morning, 
Mr. White?” she asked, turning smilingly to¬ 
wards the guide. 

“Yes, if that is agreeable to you, Mrs. 
Gray,” was the courteous reply. The easy 
grace of this man, and the evident culture that 
was beneath the surface, had puzzled Grace 
Harlowe from the beginning. There was that 
about him that was mysterious, unfathomable. 
These thoughts were in the Overland girl’s 
mind as she turned towards the little tent 
which she and Elfreda occupied together. 

“By the way, Mr. Haley,” she added, halt¬ 
ing at the tent opening, 4 4 Mr. White will fix you 
up for the night with a blanket. If you will 
bunk in with Lieutenant Wingate, there is 
room. Mr. White prefers to sleep in the 
open.” 

4 4 So do I. In the vast open, with the ambient 
atmosphere enveloping me like a blanket, I can 
ponder over the psychology of merchandising 
peanuts better than when I am shut in. All 
nature assists, the saplings sap and seep into 
my brain, into my subconscious being, and the 

8 - Grace Harlowe on Lost River 


114 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


leaves leave their native habitat to come to 
my aid, and—” 

“One can’t blame them so much for that,” 
observed Emma. “Good-night, Mr. Haley; 
good-night, Hamilton; good-night, all.” 

“Either that man is a lunatic or else he is 
a big fraud,” declared Elfreda, entering the 
tent. “Which is it?” 

“Just another mystery, that is all,” an¬ 
swered Grace good-naturedly. “Why worry; 
about him ? ’ 9 

“I don’t. I have sufficient troubles of my; 
own to keep me from sleeping soundly.” 

By this time the others were turning in; 
the visitor had already rolled himself up in 
a blanket with feet to the fire, and Ham White 
was out seeing that the ponies were secure for 
the night. He remained out there for a long 
time, looking up at the tree tops, dimly dis¬ 
cernible in the faint light. At the same time 
he appeared to be listening, now and then 
glancing back at the silent figure of Jim Haley. 

At last the guide turned and strode back into 
camp, and threw his blanket down beside 
Haley. But White did not lie down at once. 
Instead, he crouched down beside the visitor 
and peered down into the man’s face. A pair 
of twinkling eyes were gazing up at him. 

“You are awake, eh? I rather thought you 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


115 


would be. Now who are you, and what is your 
game? Out with it or out you go!” 

“Who am I? I am G- 16, and I want to talk 
with you!” Haley’s voice sank to a whisper 
as he made the mysterious announcement. 

Ham White uttered an exclamation, then, 
quickly collecting himself, he lay down on his 
blanket close to the peanut salesman, and for 
the next half hour the two men spoke in earnest 
tones, tones too low for the Overlanders to hear. 

It was long after midnight, when, had one 
been awake, he might have discovered a 
shadowy figure slinking along at the rear of 
the camp. It first paused at the tent occupied 
by Hippy and Stacy, then crept on all fours 
to the one in which Grace and Elfreda were 
sleeping. These little tents were open at both 
ends, though they could be closed in the event 
of a storm, and a person at either end, by peer¬ 
ing closely, could see the heads and faces of the 
occupants. 

Inch by inch the shadow, now flat on the 
ground, wriggled towards the two sleeping 
girls. A lean hand reached cautiously under, 
first Grace’s pillow, then under Elfreda’s. The 
pillows were pneumatic pillows that were 
filled with air before retiring, and were soft 
and comfortable, as well as sensitive to the 
touch. 


116 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


The pressure of the shadow’s hand under the 
pillow disturbed Elfreda Briggs, and her eyes 
slowly opened, but she did not move, believing 
that the hand belonged to her companion. A 
sidelong glance, however, told her that Grace’s 
back was towards her, therefore the hand 
could not belong to her. Elfreda’s next 
thought was that Stacy Brown was trying to 
play pranks on her. 

In the meantime the hand crept slowly about 
under the pillow. It was time to act, and Miss 
Briggs, half raising herself on one elbow, made 
a grab for it. She grasped a bare muscular 
arm. 

“Overland!” cried the girl, and the familiar 
thrilling call of distress awakened every person 
in the camp with the exception of Stacy Brown. 
Then darkness overwhelmed Elfreda and she 
knew no more. 

Grace, awakened by the cry, threw her arms 
about the neck of her companion. 

“Elfreda! Elfreda! What is it?” 

There was no reply. 

“Overland! Quick! Something has hap¬ 
pened to Elfreda!” she cried, springing from 
her blanket, as the quick, sharp report of a re¬ 
volver smote the ears of the campers. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


117 


CHAPTER XI 


BELIEVERS IN SAFETY FIRST 


T\ANG! BANG! BANG! The air seemed 
filled with explosions of rifles and re¬ 
volvers, and the Overland camp was in 
an uproar in a moment, even Stacy Brown 
rousing himself sufficiently to sit up and take 
quick notice. The instant the shooting began 
Stacy, concluding that his services were not 
needed, lay down with his blanket drawn up 
over his head. 

‘ 1 Safety first,’’ muttered the boy as a bullet 
tore a hole through his little dog tent. “Wow! 
I wonder what all the excitement is about?” 

Grace and Stacy were the only ones of the 
outfit who had not run out following the alarm. 
Grace had turned her pocket lamp on Elfreda’s 
face. It was a pallid face that she looked upon. 

“Elfreda! Elfreda! What is it?” begged 
Grace. ‘ ‘Oh, what is it?” 

Miss Briggs was breathing, but was uncon¬ 
scious. 

The shooting died away as suddenly as it 
had started, and then Emma and Nora ran to 


118 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


Grace’s tent, crying out to know what had hap¬ 
pened. 

“I don’t know, girls. Please hold the light 
so I can examine her. I heard Elfreda scream, 
then came the shooting, and that is all I know 
about it,” answered Grace. Her nimble fin¬ 
gers ran over her companion’s head, neck and 
shoulders, for Grace’s experience in the hos¬ 
pital service in France had not only made her 
efficient in emergencies, but had taught her to 
keep her own self well in hand. 

“Ah! Here it is.” 

“Wha—what!” gasped Nora. 

“A lump on the top of her head, well down 
near the forehead. She has been dealt a heavy 
blow, but with what, I can’t say. Fetch water. 
We must try to revive her.” 

Lieutenant Hippy Wingate came running up 
at* this juncture, revolver in hand. 

“What is it?” he demanded. 

“Elfreda has been knocked out,” Nora told 
him. 

“With what?” 

“I don’t know, Hippy,” spoke up Grace. 
“Please go away. This is no place for you. 
Stand by in case we need you. Where is the 
guide ? ’ ’ 

“He is trying to find out if there are prowl¬ 
ers about here. I think he found someone, for 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


119 


I heard a man yell,” Hippy informed them as 
he left the tent. 

Reviving Elfreda was a matter of only a few 
minutes after they began bathing her face and 
rubbing her body. Grace then uttered a sigh 
of relief. 

“What—what happened to you?” stam¬ 
mered Emma. 

“Don’t question her now. Can’t you see 
that she is weak?” rebuked Grace. “Lie per¬ 
fectly quiet, dear. You can talk later,” admon¬ 
ished Grace, as Miss Briggs indicated that she 
had something to say. “You girls had better 
step out and give us a few moments’ quiet,” 
she advised. ‘ i Hippy, if it is prudent, you had 
better start up the fire,” she called. “We must 
have light and warm water. Where is Stacy ? ’ ’ 

Hippy said he had not seen the fat boy, and 
then went straight to Stacy’s tent, where he 
found him still practicing safety first. Hippy 
dragged Stacy out by the feet. 

“Leggo! Wow!” howled Stacy. “Oh, it’s 
you, is it?” he added. “What do you mean 
by waking up a fellow like this? Anything 
wrong?” he questioned innocently. 

“Oh, no; nothing at all. Everything is 
peaceful and quiet. You get out and help me 
build a fire, and be lively about it, too. I’m not 
in the mood to trifle with you.” 


120 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


While Hippy and Stacy were building a fire, 
the two girls, Emma and Nora, got water to 
be heated. Grace bathed Miss Briggs’ feet in 
the hot water, for the injured girl was in a 
chill. A lump of sizable proportions had 
formed on her head. This was dressed by 
Grace, and in a short time Miss Briggs was 
asleep. Grace then stepped outside to her com¬ 
panions who were standing about the fire. 

“Hasn’t Mr. White come in yet?” she de¬ 
manded. 

“I haven’t seen him. Has J. Elfreda said 
anything yet?” questioned Hippy. 

“Not about what happened. If she awakens 
again, and is then able to talk, I will question 
her. Please let me know when Mr. White 
comes in.” 

It was some time later when the guide re¬ 
turned. Elfreda had been awake from her 
brief sleep long enough to tell Grace what she 
knew of the occurrence. 

“Mr. White, what do you know about this?” 
asked Grace. 

“Not a thing. The first I knew of anything 
being wrong was when someone called, fol¬ 
lowed by a cry. I think it was Miss Briggs who 
first cried out.” 

Grace nodded. 

“As I got on my feet I saw a man running, 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


121 


and knowing that it could be none of our party 
running away, I fired at him. I don’t think 
I hit him. He returned the fire, but at that 
juncture Lieutenant Wingate began shooting. 
Lieutenant, I’ll say you aren’t slow about get¬ 
ting into action. It was bully. Then I chased 
the man and he and I both emptied our re¬ 
volvers at each other. One of us hit him—” 

“It was your shot, Ham,” interrupted 
Hippy. “I wasn’t shooting when he cried 
out.” 

“Then you didn’t get the fellow?” de¬ 
manded Grace, addressing the guide. 

“No. He got away. I wish it had been day¬ 
light. That is all I can tell you. May I ask 
what Miss Briggs has to say of the attack on 
her?” 

“She says she felt something moving under 
her pillow, and after waiting a moment she 
became convinced that a hand was searching 
there. She made a grab for the hand and 
caught a man’s arm and then lost conscious¬ 
ness.” 

“Fright?” asked the guide. 

“Fright! No. A blow on the head, Mr. 
White. I think the fellow must have brought 
his fist down, for the injury doesn’t look as if 
it had been done with a stick or an instrument. 
That is all she knows about it, sir.” 


122 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“Was anything taken—did she have any¬ 
thing under her pillow?” persisted White. 

“Yes. That little canvas bag she carries. 
There was nothing of value in it. There 
may have been some small change there, for 
most of her money was in her money belt 
around her waist. The other things in the 
bag were such toilet articles as we all carry to 
use while riding—and a little powder,” added 
Grace smilingly. ‘ 1 Mere men don’t understand 
those things.” 

“Thieves!” cried Stacy. “Oh, wow!” The 
fat boy ran to his tent and feverishly searched 
his clothing. He was back in a few moments. 
“I knew it! The thief didn’t dare tackle a 
real man. You see, he picked out weak women. 
He knew better than to trifle with Stacy 
Brown.” 

“Even if Stacy Brown did hide under a 
blanket when the show opened, ’ ’ supplemented 
Lieutenant Wingate. “I presume, if Elfreda 
had not given the alarm, the man would have 
gone through all our belongings.” 

Ham White was pacing up and down. They 
could see that he was disturbed. 

“The low-down cur!” he breathed, clench¬ 
ing his fists, his face set and slightly paler than 
usual. 

“Hamilton! Hamilton! Don’t disturb 


THE LOST EIVEE TRAIL 


123 


yourself so,” begged Emma solicitously. “Be 
calm, do. I will demonstrate for you.” 

“Aw, let the peanut man do the demonstrat¬ 
ing,” jeered Stacy. “Your demonstrating 
might do at a family picnic, but up here it is 
punk ! 9 9 

White gave no heed to Emma’s sympathetic 
words. He stood with lowered chin thinking. 

“The peanut man!” cried Nora. 

“Yes. Where is Mr. Haley, Mr. White?” 
demanded Grace. 

“I don’t know, Mrs. Gray,” replied the 
guide slowly. “I thought he was sleeping be¬ 
side me when I sprang up. I haven’t seen him 
since,” added Ham White, bending over to 
poke the fire. 

The Overlanders looked at each other, and 
each knew what the other was thinking about. 

“Some demonstrator, that fellow,” observed 
Stacy Brown. “I’m mighty glad that he didn’t 
demonstrate over that fifty-cent piece in my 
trousers pocket.” 


124 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


CHAPTER XII 

A SUCCESSFUL EXPERIMENT 

“XX TE might as well move on/’ advised 
Y\/ Grace. “To-morrow will be Sun¬ 
day, and we ought to find a good 
camping place for that day, and have a day of 
rest.” 

‘ 4 Does Miss Briggs feel able to ride?” asked 
Ham White. 

“ Yes. Her head naturally is still quite sore, 
but otherwise she is as fit as any of us. It 
takes a lot to put J. Elfreda Briggs out of 
commission,” added Grace laughingly. 

‘ 4 That At does,” agreed Elfreda herself, 
emerging from her tent with a head bandage 
like a turban. 

The party were just gathering for breakfast 
on the morning after the attack on Elfreda. 
She was a little pale, but wholly herself. The 
Overlanders all shook hands with her as she 
came out, Ham White among the number, and, 
for the instant of the hand-clasp, their eyes 
met, each seeking in the fleeting look to read 
the secret of the other’s reserve. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


125 


“I have been out since break of day, fol¬ 
lowing the trail of our prowler,’’ announced 
White. “ There was more than one man in¬ 
volved in the game, whatever it was. They had 
horses, three horses, and there must have been 
that many men involved, though only one man 
entered the camp. The probabilities are that 
they reasoned one man would stand a better 
chance to carry out their plan without detec¬ 
tion than would a bunch of them, and they 
undoubtedly were right. One of our shots, as 
I said last night, hit the fellow, for I found a 
trail of blood drops. Their trail shows that 
he had to be assisted to his saddle, and that a 
companion rode along at his side when they 
went away.” 

“Oh, Hamilton. Did you demonstrate all of 
that?” begged Emma, her eyes filled with ad¬ 
miration. 

“I read the trail, that’s all,” replied the 
guide. “If that is demonstrating, I demon¬ 
strated.” 

“Ha, ha!” laughed Stacy. 

“Stacy Brown, you are a young ruffian!” 
cried Emma indignantly. 

‘ ‘ I know it. ’ ’ 

“Besides, you show the most abject coward¬ 
ice whenever courage is called for. Why not 
be like Mr. White, afraid of nothing?” 


126 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“I suppose Ham’s a hero, eh?” 

“Yes, you know he is,” agreed Emma, her 
face relaxing into a happy smile. 

“Well, he didn’t do anything to save El- 
freda’s life, did he?” 

“Perhaps not directly. Indirectly he did.” 

“Then I am the heroest hero of the two. 
Elfreda, didn’t I save your life—directly— 
when that bandit was shooting at—” Stacy 
checked himself. “I leave it to this honorable 
bunch if I am not entitled to the cross of war 
with all the palms on it that the old thing will 
hold. I demand a rising vote.” 

All except Emma got up, and all were laugh¬ 
ing heartily. 

“Carried! We will now proceed to replen¬ 
ish the coal bin,” announced Stacy, resuming 
his breakfast. 

Emma had nothing further to say to him, 
though Stacy regarded her with large, soulful 
eyes during most of the meal. Following 
breakfast, the men of the party broke camp 
and rolled the packs, and in a very short time 
they were on their way. 

Grace and Elfreda rode side by side, Grace 
wishing to see to it that her companion did not 
overdo herself. 

“I haven’t had an opportunity to ask you if 
the thief got anything of value?’’asked Grace. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


127 


“No. The diary was not in the hag. I put 
it under my money belt when I turned in,” 
Elfreda informed her. 

“Good for you! I have been thinking that 
you and I should look through that book care¬ 
fully, and if there be information of value in 
it, we should make a copy of it. You keep the 
original and I will keep the copy.” 

Miss Briggs said she didn’t care much what 
happened to the diary, save that she did not 
like the idea of being beaten. 

“I hope I am too good a lawyer to give up a 
case until the jury has brought in a verdict 
against me. Then, after I have carried it to the 
higher court and have been defeated there, then 
I’m beaten. But not until then. What about 
the peanut man? Grace, is he the guilty one?” 

“Ask Hamilton White. He knows,” was the 
low-spoken reply. 

“Why do you say that?” 

“From the expression of his face when I 
asked about Haley. There is something about 
those men that I do not clearly understand.” 

Elfreda averred that there were several 
“somethings” that needed clearing up. 

“My dear Elfreda, we are involved in so 
many mysteries that, first thing we know, we 
will be accusing each other. To-morrow being 
Sunday, I suggest that we go over the diary— 


128 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


get off somewhere by ourselves and make a 
thorough job of it,” suggested Grace, to which 
Elfreda agreed with a nod. 

Grace, at this juncture, turned in her saddle 
to see what had become of Stacy, who had 
been lagging behind all the morning. He was 
not in sight when she looked, but the next time 
she turned he was observed back some dis¬ 
tance, riding off the trail a little way, leaning 
over and catching bushes in his hands. 

“I wonder what mischief that boy is up to 
now?” murmured Grace. “Surely he is not 
doing that solely for exercise.” 

“Don’t you think he needs exercise?” ques¬ 
tioned Miss Briggs with a smile. 

Grace’s answer was a laugh. 

“Nevertheless I owe Stacy Brown an obliga¬ 
tion that I never can repay,” added Elfreda 
gravely, and to this Grace gave an emphatic 
assent. 

The day’s journey was without incident, and 
was thoroughly enjoyed. Many trails were 
crossed, some of which Hamilton White halted 
to examine, and then proceeded on his way 
without comment, unless he gave an opinion to 
Hippy Wingate who was riding beside him. 
Emma Dean kept as close to the guide as pos¬ 
sible, and watched him as though fearing that 
he might get away from her. The guide, how- 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


129 


ever, gave only the most ordinary attention to 
Emma, just as he did to the others of the 
party. 

“Is there much gold up this way, or is it a 
myth?” Hippy was asking him, as the fat boy 
continued with his operations at the rear of the 
line of horses. 

6 ‘ There undoubtedly is plenty of it if one 
knew where or how to find it. I never did, 
never expect to, and don’t know that I should 
care to. In my experience I have learned that 
not only is gold an elusive substance, but that 
it seldom brings the finder happiness. Ordi¬ 
narily it brings him disaster, even death!” 

“Whew! You talk like an actor playing in 
a tragedy,” observed Lieutenant Wingate. 

The guide grinned and resumed his study 
of the trail. Hippy had thought there might 
be opportunity to draw Hamilton White out 
as to his career. The Overlander was positive 
that it would prove an interesting story, but 
no opportunity presented itself on this occa¬ 
sion, so Hippy prudently kept his questions to 
himself. Emma, however, kept up an almost 
continuous chatter all the morning and most 
of the afternoon. 

As the day waned, they began urging their 
horses to a faster pace, White explaining that 
he wished to reach a certain camp-site that day* 

9 — i—Grace Harlowe on Lost River 


130 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


He said it would make an ideal Sunday rest 
camp. 

“Do you think we shall he safe there ?” ques¬ 
tioned Emma. “Oh, I hope so, Hamilton.” 

“As safe there as anywhere up here—per¬ 
haps more so, for we shall be on high ground 
where nothing can get to us, at least in day¬ 
light, without our observing the approach.” 

“You know the place, then!” suggested 
Hippy. “Have you been there before?” 

“No.” The answer was brief and final, and 
Hippy wondered how Ham could know about a 
particular spot in the forest, and lead them 
directly to it if he never had been there. Hippy 
could find no answer to that. 

The Overland Riders reached the site just 
before sundown. The country about them was 
mountainous and heavily forested. Back of 
the camp towered a huge rock. A little way 
from it was a smooth level spot, and bubbling 
from the rock itself there came a stream of 
water almost at ice temperature, as they dis¬ 
covered when drinking cups were brought and 
all hands helped themselves. 

“Oh!” cried Grace. “Is there any drink in 
the world to equal it?” 

“Not now,” answered Hippy Wingate. 

“And never has been,” nodded Miss Briggs. 

The guide gave expression to a wry smile 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


131 


and went on about his work of preparing for a 
week-end camp. Lieutenant Wingate attended 
to the unloading, the equipment being piled in 
orderly manner, and, after a time, Stacy was 
prodded into assisting him. 

‘ 1 Mercy! What a peculiar odor there is 
here,” exclaimed Grace. “Don’t you smell it, 
girls?” 

Nora, Emma and Elfreda sniffed the air. 

“Hippy, what is it? Don’t you smell some¬ 
thing disagreeable?” demanded Nora. 

“Now that you speak of it, I do. Stacy, see 
if you can find anything dead about here.” 

“The place is all dead,” growled the fat boy. 
“No excitement, no nothing. But there may 
be, there may be.” 

“May be what?” asked Hippy, regarding 
the boy keenly. 

“Oh, nothing much. I was just thinking.’’ 
Stacy avoided Hippy’s eyes, for his was a 
guilty conscience. Stacy Brown had been mak¬ 
ing an experiment, but as yet he did not know 
whether or not it was going to produce satis¬ 
factory results. He saw Hamilton White give 
him a slanting glance out of the corners of his 
eyes, and got busy at once unrolling packs and 
laying out the tents. This alone should have 
been sufficient to arouse the suspicion of the 
Overland Riders, for the fat boy never worked 


132 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


unless for some particular reason of his own. 
The others of the party were too busy to notice 
him, and after a time they became used to the 
strange odor, faint at times and then strong, 
as the evening breeze stirred it into life. 

At supper, however, they did find it most un¬ 
pleasant, and Lieutenant Wingate discovered 
that the odor was always more noticeable in 
the vicinity of Stacy, but he made no comment. 
The guide some time before that had made a 
similar discovery. 

Immediately after the evening meal, Mr. 
White made a survey of their surroundings, 
including a visit to the top of the big rock. 
From there he found what he expected to find, 
an excellent view of the mountains and the 
forest for many miles about, but the light was 
fading, and he deferred further survey until 
the morning when the light would be right to 
see much farther. 

The Riders were tired after their long day’s 
ride, so all hands turned in early, and wore 
asleep in a few moments, except the fat boy. 
Stacy, by frequent pinchings of himself, and 
chuckling over the fun he might have were 
his experiment to prove a success, managed to 
keep awake. 

Giving his companions ample time to sink 
into a profound sleep, the fat boy crept from 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


133 


his blanket, moving very cantionsly so as not 
to awaken Hippy Wingate. Once outside he 
took a long look at the form of Hamilton White 
who lay rolled in his blanket near the campfire, 
for the air was now chill. White was plainly 
asleep. 

Stacy crept to Grace’s tent, then to the one 
occupied by Nora and Emma, pausing for a 
moment at each and performing some peculiar 
motions. It would have been difficult for any¬ 
one to even guess at what the boy might be up 
to. 

“I’d like to give that guide fellow a dose, 
too,” muttered the fat boy, again pausing for 
a long look at White. “I reckon I’d better let 
well enough alone, though.” 

Stacy got back to his own tent without awak¬ 
ening a single member of the party. 

“Humph!” he muttered. “Sleepy-heads, 
all. Anybody could walk in here and steal 
them without awakening a single person. I 
don’t believe anything is going to happen at 
all. That fellow down at Cresco is a fake, and 
I’ll be even with him when we get back there. 
I’ll get my money back or—or—” Stacy 
Brown’s eyes closed, his mutterings became 
mere murmurs and then ceased altogether. 
He, too, was sound asleep, the biggest sleepy¬ 
head of them all. 


134 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


It was several hours after that that some¬ 
thing happened. 

Emma Dean uttered a terrified scream, and 
Nora Wingate, suddenly awakened, screamed 
louder than Emma did. The two girls bounded 
from their beds and ran from the tent hysteri¬ 
cally crying for help. 

“Hamilton! Oh, Hamilton!” cried Emma. 

The guide had sprung to his feet at the first 
scream. Grace and Elfreda were only a few 
seconds behind him. 

“Merciful heaven! What is it?” cried Miss 
Briggs, as her eyes saw what appeared to be 
a huge form at the tent entrance. 

Both girls ran out at the other end of the 
tent, then Hamilton White’s rifle spoke, waking 
the echoes of the forest, just as Stacy Brown 
ran from his own tent in a terrible fright. 

“Oh, wow, wow, wow!” howled the fat boy. 
“He got me, he did.” 

Stacy’s experiment had proved an entire suc¬ 
cess, and he had fallen a victim to his own 
prank. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


135 


CHAPTER XIII 

THE CAMP IS INVADED 

u | aON’T run. Keep together back of me. 
J Lieutenant, look out for the rear. I’ll 
take care of the rest,” shouted the 

guide. 

44 What is it? Hamilton, what is it?” cried 
Emma. 

4 ‘Bears!” answered Grace Harlowe. “I 
never saw so many in all my life. What does 
it mean ? ’ ’ 

The camp was full of the beasts. They were 
ambling swiftly here and there, growling, sniff¬ 
ing, pawing, and apparently without fear. 
This, as some of the party knew, was not like 
the ways of the black bear. Ordinarily a black 
bear cannot get away from man quickly 
enough. Even the discharge of the guide’s 
rifle did not put the invaders to flight. 

“Fire into their legs, Lieutenant,” directed 
White. “We don’t want to kill them if we can 
avoid it. Besides, it is against the law.” 

The two men let loose with their rifles at the 
feet of the beasts, but in the faint light aim was 


136 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


uncertain, and it was only occasionally that a 
grunt indicated that an animal had been hit. 

Out in the bushes the ponies were snorting 
in fright. Stacy suddenly uttered a yell as a 
bear ran between his legs and threw him down. 
From the way the bear got away from him it 
was evident that the beast was as badly fright¬ 
ened as was the fat boy. The swift work of 
White and Hippy was having its effect, too, 
and here and there a dark form was observed 
ambling away into the forest. 

* “Now! All together. WeVe got them go¬ 
ing !’’ cried Ham White. 6 6 Be careful that you 
don’t shoot towards the ponies.” 

Stacy ran for his rifle, and a moment later 
he, too, was firing away, and continued to fire 
until he was pulling the trigger on empty cham¬ 
bers, but his assistance was no longer needed. 

“I think they are all out now,” announced 
the guide. “I suspect that we shall have some 
bear meat for breakfast just the same, but we 
can’t help it. A man has a right to defend 
himself, though I always try to keep within 
the law. Lieutenant, keep the camp clear while 
I build a fire so we can see what we have.” 

The coals of the evening fire were still smoul¬ 
dering, and it was the work of but a few mo¬ 
ments to start a blaze large enough to light up 
the camp. The bears had torn and uprooted 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


137 


two tents and worked other havoc. The camp 
was in a mess. 

Hippy circled the camp. 

“We got one of the beasts, a small one,” he 
called. ‘ 1 Sure we ’ll have bear meat for break¬ 
fast.” 

White hurried to him. 

“Nice fat fellow, too. We will dress him, 
and then we shall have to guard the carcass or 
there will be none of it left by morning. ’ 9 

“I think I’ll turn in, now that the excitement 
is all over,” announced Stacy at this juncture. 

“You will not. You will assist us to prepare 
the carcass or you get no bear steak for break¬ 
fast.” 

“I don’t care. I prefer venison anyway. 
Bear meat is too coarse for Emma and me. 
We prefer something lighter, more spiritual.” 

“More is the meat of your argument, as 
usual,” flung back Miss Dean. 

With Hippy’s assistance the bear was hung 
up from a pole which was thrust through its 
hocks, and White began deftly skinning it. 
The animal was then dressed and left to cool. 

The guide was perspiring freely and so was 
Hippy. 

“Good work, Lieutenant. I reckon this isn’t 
the first time you have dressed bear,” ap¬ 
proved the guide. 


138 


GRACE HAKLOWE ON 


“What now?” asked Hippy. 

“Yon people had better go to bed. I shall sit 
np, for we may look for visitors before day¬ 
light.” 

“Visitors!” cried the Overlanders. 

“Yes,” answered W r hite, smiling. “You will 
hear them, and after their arrival there will be 
little sleep in this outfit.” 

Hippy decided to remain on watch with the 
guide. 

“Oh, Mr. Brown!” 

Stacy, on his way to his tent, halted at the 
guide’s call. 

“Well, what is it?” 

* ‘ Suppose you come over and tell us about it, 
so that we may laugh at the joke, too.” 

All eyes were turned on the fat boy. 

“I’m going to bed,” protested Stacy sourly. 

“Not now you are not,” decided Hippy 
sternly. “You come here. Now, Mr. White, 
go on with the entertainment. I suspect we 
are going to hear something. In fact, I already 
have a sneaking suspicion that there has been 
something shady in this bear affair.” 

“Where did you get the stuff?” began White. 

“What stuff?” 

6 ‘ The bear-bait that you have been distribut¬ 
ing along the way and in camp?” 

“I—I did-—” 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


139 


“Stacy!” rebuked Emma. “Be a good little 
George Washington now, and confess to 
Hamilton that you cut down the cherry tree.” 

“I realized that there was something famil¬ 
iar in the odor that we detected here last even¬ 
ing, but I could not place it. That odor is here 
now. It is bear-bait, and we have you to thank 
for our unexpected Sunday dinner,” accused 
Ham White. 

“Stacy Brown! Did you do that?” de¬ 
manded Nora severely. 

“Well, it was this way,” admitted the fat 
boy. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that you had the 
urge to do this terrible thing so that I might 
demonstrate over you?” begged Emma. 

“Oh, demonstrate over the wild animals.” 

“That is what I have suggested,” reminded 
Emma. ‘ ‘ The wild animal did not give me the 
cue.” 

“Go on, young man,” urged Hippy. 

“I—I thought some bear meat might be 
appreciated by you folks, and of course I knew 
we couldn’t shoot bear, as it is out of season, 
unless we had to get rid of them. I—” 

“Close your throttle! You are on the wrong 
division,” commanded Hippy. “Where did you 
get that stuff—I mean the stuff that you planted 
to call the bears ? ’ ’ 


140 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“Down at Cresco. I was talking with an old 
hunter who told me that he used bear-bait, and 
could call bear to him at any time. He said 
I must plaster it along the trail on bushes, and 
a few hours afterwards the bear would come 
right to the camp, that you didn’t have to hunt 
them at all. That is the way to hunt—wait for 
them to come to you. It is so much simpler. 
Well, he had some of it and was willing to sell 
it to me for five cart wheels—” 

“Five what?” interrupted Nora. 

44 Cart wheels—dollars. I thought I had been 
stuck, but I wasn’t, was I?” chuckled the fat 
boy. 44 Wait! I have some of it left in a can. 
I’ll get it and show it to you,” offered Stacy, 
turning to run to his tent. 

44 No!” shouted the Overlanders. 

Hippy grabbed the fat boy and hauled him 
back. 

4 4 We aren’t finished with you yet. Go on with 
the story. It is interesting,” averred Hippy. 

“I waited till you were all asleep, then I 
plastered the tents, and then went to sleep. 
You know the rest. It worked, didn’t it?” 

44 It did,” agreed the guide. Ham White’s 
eyes were twinkling. 

4 4 Stacy Brown, aren’t you ashamed of your¬ 
self?” cried Nora Wingate. 

44 Ashamed? No, of course not. I am proud 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


141 


of myself. The trouble with you folks is that 
you have no sense of humor. Even a Britisher 
would laugh at this. I haven’t had time to 
laugh for myself, but I am going to now.” 

Stacy did. He laughed uproariously and 
long, but there was little mirth in his laughter. 
His motive was to put his companions in a 
frame of mind that would make it easier for 
him, for Stacy secretly feared they would take 
sweet revenge on him for his prank. 

A brief period of silence followed the fat 
boy’s laughter, then the Overlanders broke 
loose. Theirs was real mirth, and their laugh 
lasted longer. 

ii Well, what are we going to do with him?” 
demanded Hippy. 

“I reckon the young man is right about our 
lack of a sense of humor,” agreed Ham. “We 
have had our laugh; we have some fine meat 
for to-morrow, and we have had some excite¬ 
ment with no harm done except a little loss of 
sleep and a somewhat mussed-up camp. My 
suggestion is that if Mr. Brown will go bury 
that can of bear-bait, then sleep out in the 
woods to-night, we will let him off this time. 
Well?” 

“I’ll bury the stuff, yes, but I won’t sleep 
out in the woods. The bears might get me,” 
objected Stacy. “One tried to, in my tent.” 


142 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“That is exactly the point that Hamilton is 
making,” spoke np Emma. “Sleep out in the 
woods, by all means.” 

A long, wailing cry echoed through the forest. 

“Mercy! What’s that?” cried Nora. 

“The coyotes have scented the fresh meat,” 
answered White. ‘ 1 They will all be here soon, 
and some other beasts, too. Are you folks game 
for a sight that will thrill you—that will show 
you the savagery of nature let loose?” he asked 
quickly. 

“Yes!” agreed the Overlanders eagerly. 
They did not know what he proposed to do, but 
were ready for anything that he might suggest 
as a diversion. 

“Get your belongings, blankets, and such 
things as you don’t care to lose. We men will 
get the horses, and—” 

“Oh, have a heart!” begged Stacy. “What! 
Ride at this time of night ? I prefer to stay in 
camp. ’ ’ 

“You may,” agreed the guide. 

Stacy sat down and regarded the prepara¬ 
tions sourly, but when he saw that his compan¬ 
ions really were going to leave him, he ran for 
his pony and his equipment. It was but a short 
time later that the party filed out of camp, 
leading their horses, stepping out at a brisk 
walk, for White was in some haste. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


143 


After proceeding several hundred yards 
from the camp, the guide halted. 

“Tie your stock, and tie them securely, for 
we shall have to leave them here alone for a 
time, ,, he directed. 

This having been done, the party gathered 
together, waiting for Ham White to direct them 
what to do next. 

“We will wait here for the present,” he said. 

Five, ten minutes of tense silence passed; 
then a long mournful howl resounded through 
the forest. It was answered by other howls 
farther away, then a scream brought rustlings 
in the tree-tops where the birds stirred rest¬ 
lessly. 

“They’re coming. Move forward cau¬ 
tiously; make no loud noises and be careful 
where you step. No one is to use a weapon 
unless I tell him to do so. Come!” 


144 


GEACE HAELOWE ON 


CHAPTEE XIV 

THE BATTLE OF THE BEASTS 

“^H, HAMILTON!” said Emma, as she 

V 9 placed a trembling hand on the arm 
of the guide. 

‘‘Be quiet,’’ he admonished. 

The howls were coming nearer with the 
seconds, it seemed. There were suggestive 
rustlings, and the faint sound of padded feet 
on the soft ground somewhere to the right of 
the party. 

The sensations of the Overland Eiders were 
not wholly delightful, and their nerves were 
tense and on edge. 

The howls of the coyotes were mingled with 
snarls, and between themselves and the faint 
light of the campfire the Overlanders now made 
out slinking shadows. 

“Mother of Mercy! What does it all 
mean?” murmured Nora Wingate. 

“The coyotes are here,” Grace informed 
her. “Don’t he alarmed. They cannot harm 
us if we keep together and don’t get panic- 
stricken. ’ ’ 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


145 


1 1 Silence, please!’’ ordered White. “We will 
proceed. Pick your way.’ 9 

They had reached a point further on when 
the guide halted them. 

* ‘ Look! 9 ’ he said in a low tone of voice. 

The Overlanders gazed on a scene such as 
they had never gazed upon before. 

A pack of coyotes were milling and snarl¬ 
ing at the carcass of the suspended bear. They 
were leaping and rending the bear’s flesh, 
springing upon each other in their frenzy, 
biting and tearing their fellows. 

A long-drawn howl from the forest was fol¬ 
lowed by a chorus of yelps. The air seemed 
full of hoarse wails. 

“Wolves!” announced the guide briefly. 
“You can talk now. Your voices can’t be 
heard by those beasts with all this uproar. 
How do you like it?” 

“ It is terrible! ’ ’ murmured Elfreda. 

“Perhaps, but that is the way, not only of 
the beasts, but of man, though man is more 
cruel. Life is a survival of the fittest. Look 
at the trees and you have the answer. The 
tall ones are the vigorous ones; the runts—” 

The guide was interrupted by a scream that 
was almost human in its quality. 

“Ah! Now we shall see something worth 
while. Watch!” he warned. 

10 - Grace Harlowe on Lost River 


146 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


What seemed to be a big ball of fur came 
hurtling from a tree, landing right among the 
coyotes. Then followed the maddest battle and 
the noisiest one that any member of the Over¬ 
land party, with the possible exception of Ham 
White, had ever seen. 

“See the big cat give it to them!” cried the 
guide. 

< < The—the cat! ’ ’ stammered Emma. 

“Yes. That’s a mountain lion, which, as a 
matter of fact, is not a lion at all . 9 9 

The girls were too thrilled with the scene 
before them to give heed to his words. 

The battle was brief, but when the lion 
finally leaped away with a large chunk of meat 
in his jaws, three coyotes lay stretched out on 
the ground. Whether the lion had killed them, 
or whether their own fellows had done the 
deed, the eyes of the Overlanders had not been 
quick enough to perceive. Now that they were 
rid of their enemy, the coyotes returned to 
their savage feast. 

“Say! You aren’t going to let those beasts 
eat up all our meat, are you?” demanded Stacy. 
“I want some of that meat myself.” 

“Is there any danger to us, Mr. White?” 
questioned a voice in the guide’s ear. 

He turned quickly, to find Miss Briggs stand¬ 
ing at his side. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


147 


“No. We have our rifles, and so long as the 
bear meat holds out those cowardly brutes can 
think of nothing else. We will give them some¬ 
thing to think about shortly, however. I think 
we have seen about enough of this, and I am 
a little anxious about the ponies, too.” 

“Why?” 

“You heard the wolves howling a little while 
ago. Well, you don’t hear them now, do you?” 

“Meaning?” interjected Grace. 

“That they may be attacking the ponies or 
they may be stalking us—may at this moment 
be within a few yards of us. I don’t worry 
about our safety. They would have to be very 
hungry to attack us, in force as we are, but 
let them overwhelm a pony and get him down,, 
and he is lost.” 

The guide paused, and peered through the 
leaves of a bunch of saplings behind which the 
party was standing. He gazed steadily for a 
full minute. 

“Mrs. Gray, fix your gaze on that tree with 
the umbrella top. Do you get it?” asked 
White eagerly. 

“Yes.” 

“Let me know if you see anything.” 

“I see something dark on one of the pro¬ 
jecting limbs,” answered Grace, after a long 
look. “What is it?” 


148 GRACE HARLOWE ON 

“An animal, probably a lion.” 

“Ours?” questioned Hippy. 

The guide shook his head. 

“ ‘Ours’ as you call him is too full of bear 
meat at this moment to climb a tree. He is 
probably still munching under a thick growth 
of creeping juniper somewhere, and may re¬ 
main there all night. That animal in the um¬ 
brella tree must be another lion. Want to try 
your marksmanship on him, Mrs. Gray? Take 
a shot at him,” urged Hamilton White. “This 
isn’t a fair test, I know, for you can’t even see 
your rifle sights.” 

“Why, yes, I’ll try it.” The members of the 
party, at the guide’s direction, had brought 
along their rifles, as Ham knew that the weap¬ 
ons might be needed. Grace stepped forward a 
little, moved to the right, then to the left, each 
time peering over the barrel of her automatic 
rifle. ‘ 4 1 am not certain, but I think I can line 
up one sight. Shall I fire?” 

“Sure!” answered White. 

The Overland girl knelt down and rested the 
rifle against the side of a tree, but the position 
did not suit her, so she lay flat on her back on 
the ground, with the weapon held between her 
elevated knees. It was for only a few seconds 
that she waited, then there came a flash and a 
sharp report, followed by a spat! 


THE LOST KIVER TRAIL 


149 


A snarl, and a faint squeal, came down to 
them. 

6 1 You hit the tree, and I shouldn’t be sur¬ 
prised if you barked the beast, too!” cried 
Ham enthusiastically. “Try it again.” 

“No. Give the others a chance. The one 
who brings down the beast shall be free from 
all camp duties until Monday night,” suggested 
Grace. 

“Here! Let me take a shot!” exclaimed 
Stacy. He raised his rifle, without changing 
his position at all, and before the girls could 
ask an opportunity to shoot, Stacy fired three 
quick shots. 

A scream from the cat followed the shots. 
There was a lively scrambling in the um¬ 
brella tree, and the dark object that Hamilton 
White had pointed out disappeared for a few 
seconds. The party was too eager to see the re¬ 
sult of the shots to take their eyes from the 
tree for even a second. 

“There he comes!” cried Ham. “It’s a hit. 
Look at him tumble! ’ ’ 

The lion had plunged from the tree and was 
hurtling down. He struck the ground with a 
loud whack, landing a few yards from the 
campfire, where he lay kicking, then straight¬ 
ened out dead. 

From the shots and the fall of the lion the 


150 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


coyotes got a fright that sent them scurrying 
to the shadows. 

‘ 4 Now’s our chance to clear them out! 
Everybody shoot and shoot fast. No danger 
of doing any damage, for our ponies are behind 
us! ’’ ordered White. 

“Put down a barrage, you shooters, and give 
them a kick that will keep them going. I want 
to go to bed,” cried Stacy. “I never shoot at 
anything I can’t see. It isn’t sportsmanlike.” 

Some lively shooting followed, and the camp 
and its immediate vicinity was cleared of the 
vicious visitors in a few moments. 

“We must get the ponies up in a hurry now, 
Lieutenant,” reminded Ham. “You ladies 
stay out in the open, but keep together with 
rifles at ready. Brown, you stay here and look 
after them. Shoot if anything develops.” 

The two men started back into the forest at 
a run, and they were just in time, for slinking 
forms were already stalking the plunging, 
snorting ponies. 

It took but a few moments to free the ponies 
and lash them together with lead ropes, where¬ 
upon the men started back to camp. They 
hesitated to fire at the beasts, either coyotes or 
wolves, which were now stalking the ponies, 
fearing to alarm the girls. Only a slight rus¬ 
tling indicated the presence of the slinking 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


151 


beasts, and that sound continued until the men 
with the ponies were more than half the way 
to the camp. 

“Hark!” exclaimed the guide suddenly. 

“Did you hear that, Lieutenant?” 

“No. What was it?” 

“Three shots. They weren’t from our camp, 
either—they were farther away—and I should 
say from a revolver. Let us hurry on.” 

A rifle crashed. 

“That one was from our party. I’m going 
to cut loose. You bring the horses in as best 
you can.” White cast off the lead rope, and 
dashed ahead towards the camp, keeping his 
mount from burying its nose in the ground by 
sheer muscular effort, as the little animal fre¬ 
quently stumbled, and staggered over obstruc¬ 
tions that could not be seen in the darkness. 
The guide rode into camp at a swift gallop. 

“What is it?” he demanded, sweeping the 
camp with a quick comprehensive glance. 

“There isn’t anything the matter,” an¬ 
swered Stacy Brown, who stood leaning on his 
rifle. 

“Then why did you shoot? I told you to 
shoot if anything developed,” rebuked the 
guide. 

“I didn’t say that I did shoot. However, for 
your own private ear, not for general publi- 


152 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


cation, Ill say I did fire a shot. What about 
it?” demanded the fat boy belligerently. 

“Why?” 

‘ ‘ Because some fellow was signalling us with 
small arms. Maybe some poor fellow is lost. I 
have a big heart, sir—I am full to overflowing 
with human sympathy, so I answered his shot.” 

Hamilton White sighed. There was no an¬ 
swer that he could think of. Grace laughed at 
him, and the guide grinned appreciatively. 

Hippy arrived safely at camp with the 
horses a few moments later, and was quickly 
informed of the cause of the shooting. Neither 
Hippy nor White liked the thought of reveal¬ 
ing their presence, for they knew that peril 
might lurk in the big woods for the Over¬ 
land Riders, and for that reason they regretted 
Stacy’s shot. 

“Well, I reckon you ladies had better turn 
in. We three men must clean up the camp 
after the mussing it has had. How’s the cat?” 
asked the guide. 

“He is a nice fat fellow, Hamilton,” bub¬ 
bled Emma. 

“And Stacy made a wonderful shot, didn’t 
he, Mr. White ? ’ ’ spoke up Elfreda enthusiasti¬ 
cally. 

“I always make wonderful shots,” boasted 
the fat boy. “Why, I could tell you of shots 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


153 


that I have made that yon wouldn’t believe 
possible were anyone else to tell you the same 
story about himself.” 

The Overlanders laughed heartily. 

“Chance shot!” declared Hippy. 

“I think so, too,” chirped Emma. 

“I think I know a chance shot when I see 
one,” added Lieutenant Wingate. 

“I don’t doubt it. You’ve made enough of 
them,” growled Stacy, and the laugh was on 
Hippy. “I’m going to turn in. If the coyotes 
return don’t bother to awaken me. I am per¬ 
fectly able to take care of myself if they get 
close enough.” 

“You will help us clear up this camp, Stacy 
Brown!” ordered Hippy. Stacy demurred, 
but obeyed. When Hippy assumed that tone, 
Stacy knew that it was best to obey orders. 

The three had been at work for only a few 
moments when a fusillade of shots was heard. 
The shots were from small arms, and were 
much nearer the camp than before. All work 
ceased instantly, and the guide looked his dis¬ 
pleasure at the interruption. He beckoned to 
the girls to go to the far side of the camp, 
which they did without protest, but he observed 
that they had picked up their rifles and laid 
them across their laps, as they sat down in 
the shadows. 


154 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


‘ ‘ Oli, Hamilton, do be careful, ’’ called Emma. 

Nora snickered, and Emma Dean elevated 
her chin disdainfully. 

* * Sh-h-h-h!’’ warned Grace. “I hear some¬ 
one coming.’’ 

“Help!” The cry was hard by the camp. 

Ham White and Hippy, standing back from 
the light of the campfire, did not move. Their 
rifles were held in the crooks of their left arms 
ready for instant use. 

“It may be a trick. Stand by!” warned 
White in a low voice. 

“Aye, aye, sir,” answered Hippy. 

A man, dishevelled, his clothing torn, his 
face bloody, staggered into the camp. 

“I’m done for!” he gasped, and collapsed 
in a heap. 


THE LOST EIYER TRAIL 


155 


CHAPTER XY 

A EUDE AWAKENING 

U T 00K out!” was White’s warning to 
Lieutenant Wingate, as the guide 
sprang forward to the man on the 

ground. 

“Is he dead?” called Elfreda, getting up to 
go forward to the visitor’s assistance. 

“No. Stay where you are for the present, 
please.” The camp was silent for a moment, 
then White stood up. “It’s Jim Haley!” he 
announced. “And he has been pretty roughly 
used.” 

“The Man from Seattle!” cried the girls. 
Elfreda was at his side instantly. 

“Is he wounded?” she asked. 

“I think not,” replied the guide. 

“See if he has any peanuts with him,” ad¬ 
vised Stacy Brown. 

“Stacy!” Hippy’s voice was stern, and the 
fat boy subsided. 

A quick examination by White and Miss 
Briggs failed to reveal any wounds. They 
brought water, and Elfreda bathed Haley’s 


156 


GEACE HABLOWE 


face, which, though bloody, was only scratched, 
probably by contact with bushes. It took but 
a short time to revive him, his trouble being 
almost wholly exhaustion. Grace hastened to 
make a pot of tea, which Haley gulped down 
and instantly recovered himself. 

44 Sorry I lost my samples, or I’d not have 
been in this shape,” he said, grinning. 

44 What happened to you?” Hippy asked. 

4 4 Same old story. The mountain ruffians 
wanted peanuts, so they tackled me. One 
taste of the International’s product and men 
will commit murder to get more of it. I threw 
away all I had, and they’re picking them up 
along the trail. It was the only way I could 
get rid of the scoundrels. Then I got into 
more trouble. A pack of wolves got the scent 
of the peanuts and they tackled me, too, but 
I hadn’t any of the International’s product to 
throw to them, so I had to run for it. They 
chased me nearly all the way in. ‘Good for man 
and beast’ is the slogan that I shall send on to 
the International for use in their publicity 
matter. ’ ’ 

The girls were now laughing heartily, but, 
as they recalled the manner of Haley’s leav¬ 
ing them, they subsided abruptly. Haley’s 
now merry eyes caught the significance of the 
change. 



“I'm Done For! ’’ 
157 























158 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


44 What have I said or done now? Is it be¬ 
cause I have no peanuts for you good peo¬ 
pled 

“I think the young ladies would like an ex¬ 
planation of your sudden departure the other 
night,’’ spoke up Hippy Wingate. 

“Were I to tell you that I ran away because 
I was afraid, you probably would not believe 
me, so I’ll not tell you that. There are some 
things one can speak of freely, and others that 
he cannot. This latter happens to be my diffi¬ 
culty now. If you feel that you do not want 
me, of course I shall not impose upon you. I 
thank you, but I warn you that you are not 
to enjoy any of the International’s product 
until you reach home. They eat ’em alive up 
here.” 

“You are quite welcome to remain as long 
as you wish. Please stay over Sunday with 
us, Mr. Haley,” requested Grace. “We hope 
to have a spread for our Sunday dinner,” she 
added laughingly. 

“You win, Mrs. Gray. Unfortunately, my 
International raiment is in a sad condition, 
but if you will lend me a pair of shears I’ll 
cut off the ragged ends and try to make my¬ 
self presentable.” 

The girls, at this juncture, bade the men 
good-night and turned in, for there were not 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


159 


many hours left for sleep, and they were now 
very tired after the exciting night through 
which they had passed. 

A few words passed between the guide and 
the peanut man, and Ham White listened with 
a heavy frown on his face. 

“I won’t do it!” he exclaimed. “Do you 
think you would were you in my position?” 

“If the International’s product didn’t pay 
me I should,” answered the peanut man, with 
a twinkle in his eyes. 

“Oh, hang the International!” retorted 
White. “I give you fair warning that I’ll not 
double-cross these young women for you or 
for any of your confounded outfit. I’ve done 
enough already, and I am thinking of going to 
them and making a clean breast of what I 
have done and then get out.” 

i ‘ Don’t be a fool, White. Here! Read this. ’ ’ 
Haley extended a folded slip of paper to the 
guide, who opened and read it, the frown deep¬ 
ening on his forehead. 

White handed back the slip of paper, and 
resting his chin in the palm of his hand sat 
regarding the distant campfire thoughtfully, 
for they had withdrawn out of earshot of the 
camp for their conversation. 

“Very well!” agreed Hamilton White after 
a few moments’ reflection. “I might as well 


160 GRACE HARLOWE ON 

be banged for a sheep as a wolf, but if any¬ 
thing happens here as a result I shall tell why. 
Remember that, Haley.” 

“Oh, well, what’s a bag of peanuts more or 
less?” was the enigmatic reply of the Man 
from Seattle. “I’ll take a nip of sleep, if you 
don’t mind, and be on my way, but not far 
away. ’ ’ 

The queer visitor took the blanket that had 
been given to him, and, walking back into the 
forest a short distance from the camp, lay down 
and went to sleep. The guide did not turn in 
at all, but sat silently in the shadows, rifle at 
his side, thinking and listening. Thus the rest 
of the night passed, and day began to dawn. 

With the breaking of the day Hamilton 
White climbed the miniature mountain, and 
drawing a single-barreled glass from his pocket 
began studying the landscape. A tiny spiral 
of smoke about two miles to the north claimed 
his instant attention. He studied it for a few 
moments. At first the smoke was quite dark, 
then the spiral grew thin and gray as it waved 
lazily on the still morning air. 

“Someone is building a breakfast fire,” he 
muttered. “And they know how to build a 
fire, too. That may be Haley’s crowd. Ah!” 

As White slowly swept his glass around he 
discovered something else that aroused his 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 161 

keen interest. On a distant mountain a flag 
was being wigwagged. He could not see the 
operator of it, but he was able to follow the 
message that was being spelled out. 

Another shift of his glass and a careful 
study of known localities enabled the guide to 
find the person who was receiving the message, 
and soon the receiver began answering with 
his signal flag. 

Ham White grinned as he read both mes¬ 
sages. 

“The forest eyes of Uncle Sam!” he mur¬ 
mured. The signalers were forest lookouts 
whose eyes w T ere constantly on the alert watch¬ 
ing over the vast forest within their range 
for suspicious smokes, and they were having 
a friendly Sunday morning conversation over 
a distance of nearly four miles. 

Ham read and smiled. 

“If they knew they would be more careful 
of what they said,” he chuckled, then a few 
moments later he climbed down, returned to 
camp and started the breakfast fire. He fried 
some strips of bacon, put on the coifee, and 
then he sounded the breakfast call. 

“Come and get it!” was the call that rang 
out on the mountain air. 

The Overlanders thought they wanted to 
sleep, in fact, they were hardly awake when 

11—*■—Grace Harlowe on Lost River 


162 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


they got up grumbling, in most instances, and 
began hurriedly dressing. All were shivering, 
for the air was very chill. The odor of the 
breakfast, when they smelled it, added to the 
haste of their dressing. 

‘ ‘ Stick your heads in the cold water and you 
will be all right, ’’ advised the guide. 

The girls returned from the spring, their 
faces rich with color, eyes sparkling, and ready 
for breakfast. 

“How are the appetites? I don’t ask you, 
Mr. Brown. You have proved to my satisfac¬ 
tion that you can eat whether you are hungry 
or not,” laughed White. 

“We are ready for breakfast, sir,” answered 
Elfreda Briggs. “My, but it does smell good. ” 

“WRere is Mr. Haley?” questioned Grace, 
regarding the guide with a look of inquiry in 
her eyes. 

“He thought best to sleep outside of the 
camp, and no doubt has gone on before this.” 

“Wky, Mr. White?” persisted Grace. 

“That is a question that I can’t answer just 
now, Mrs. Gray,” returned the guide, meeting 
her eyes in a level gaze. 

“Oh, very well. We will have breakfast.” 

“We will,” agreed Stacy, and began to help 
himself from the frying pan, when the guide 
smilingly placed a hand on the fat boy’s arm. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


163 


“You forget the ladies, Mr. Brown,’’ he re¬ 
minded. 

“Forget them? How conld I?” 

“It is you who forget, Hamilton,” inter¬ 
posed Emma. “You forget that Stacy Brown 
never was brought up. ’ ’ 

“Give me the chuck!” whispered Stacy. 
“Heap the plate.” 

White, catching the significance of the re¬ 
quest, heaped the plate, and Stacy bore it to 
Emma with great dignity. He bowed low and 
offered the plate. 

“Your highness is served,” he said. “If 
you will be so kind as to call your sweet soul 
to earth from the ethereal realms above long 
enough to feed that sweet soul on a few fat 
slices of common pig, you will be a real human 
being. I thank you,” added the boy, as Emma, 
her face flushing, took the plate, her lips fram¬ 
ing a reply which was never uttered. The shout 
of laughter that greeted Stacy’s act and words 
left Emma without speech. Nor did she speak 
more than once during the meal, then only to 
ask for another cup of coffee. 

Breakfast finished and the morning work 
done in camp, the three men went out to groom 
the horses, while Grace and Elfreda strayed 
away. Their objective was the rock from which 
Ham White had made his early observation. 


164 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“Have you the diary f ” asked Grace as they 
seated themselves. “Oh, what a wonderful 
view. Isn’t it superb f 9 9 

“Yes, I have the diary, and I see the view, 
and agree with you that it is superb, but sup¬ 
pose we get down to business before we are in¬ 
terrupted. I do not believe we shall be spied 
on here, at least ,’ 9 said Elfreda, glancing about 
her. 

The thumb-worn book was produced, and the 
girls bent over it, beginning with the first page. 
There were daily weather comments, move¬ 
ments of the prospector from place to place, 
little incidents in his daily life, none of which 
seemed to shed any light on the subject in 
which the two girls were interested. 

“Here is something!” breathed Grace fi¬ 
nally, and read, under date of April 30, the fol¬ 
lowing paragraph: 

“ ‘Plenty here. Dare not dig, for am 
watched. Picked up in channel enough pay-dirt 
to keep over next winter. Channel itself ought 
to pan out fortune, but shall have to have help. 
Isn’t safe to try it alone. The gang of cut¬ 
throats would murder me. Some day mebbv 
they’ll get me as it is.’ ” 

“Hm-m-m-m,” murmured Miss Briggs. 
“I wondered why, if he had made such a find, 
Mr. Petersen shouldn’t get out the gold and 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


165 


put it in a safe place before someone got ahead 
of him. The diary seems to furnish a reason 
for his delay. He must refer to the Murray 
gang.” 

“Listen to this entry, Elfreda,” begged 
Grace, reading: 

“ ‘Queer thing this morning. The sun was 
shining on the children, and on grandma’s 
bonnet, but her face was as black as a nigger’s. 
I wonder if that was a warning to me to keep 
away. Gold, gold! How terrible is the lure 
for the yellow stuff. It gets into the blood, 
it eats into the heart. It’s a frightful dis¬ 
ease.’ ” 

“That checks up with what Mr. Petersen 
had me to write down, doesn’t it, Grace!” 
breathed Elfreda. 

“Undoubtedly. He must refer to the same 
thing, but it doesn’t give us the least idea where 
the place is.” 

“The man would be a fool to write a thing 
like that in a diary—to tell where and how. 
Anything else! There is something on the 
next page.” 

“Yes,” answered Grace, turning the page 
and reading: 

“ ‘Though I haven’t found it, I know pretty 
well where the mother lode is, but I’m afraid 
of it—afraid to look for it. I’m afraid the 


166 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


wealth I should find there would kill me just 
because of the responsibility of possessing it. 
Then again, what is there left in life after a 
man has got all he has dreamed of, and yearned 
for, and fought for, and worked for, up to that 
time? Nothing!’ ” 

“What a philosopher!” marvelled Grace 
Harlowe. 

“He is right, too,” agreed Miss Briggs. 
“Suppose we forget about it, also,” urged 
Elfreda. “I am tired of it.” 

“J. Elfreda, if I didn’t know you so well, 
I should believe you are in love, you are so 
gloomy. Listen! Mr. Petersen probably has 
no one surviving him. He wished you to have 
what he had found. It was the request of a 
man about to pass out; it was a trust, Elfreda. 
One day someone, perhaps the very ones who 
tried to kill him, will stumble on the Lost Mine. 
I should say that the prospector’s request 
imposed a duty on you, my dear—a duty to go 
to the place he names, take possession of what 
you may find there and keep it for your own. 
You can’t expect to make a fortune practic¬ 
ing law, especially if you don’t do more practic¬ 
ing than you have done in the last few years. 
I fear these summer outings of ours have cost 
each of us something.” 

Elfreda said she didn’t regret the loss of 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


167 


time. Her time was her own, and she had 
sufficient funds to enable her to take care of 
herself and the little daughter that she had 
adopted a few years before. 

“The question is, though, how am I going to 
find this place—how are we going to find it, 
I mean, for what I find is for the outfit, not for 
my own selfish self. I—” 

Elfreda’s eyes had been wandering over the 
scene that lay before them as Grace slowly 
turned the leaves of the diary. Miss Briggs 
thought she had seen a movement off to the 
right at the edge of the rock farthest from the 
camp. 

“What is it?” demanded Grace, glancing up 
quickly. 

“Nothing. Go on. Find anything else?” 

“Only this: ‘ When the sun is at the meridian 
the sands turn to golden yellow,’ ” read Grace. 

“What does he mean, do you think?” 

“I suppose he means to convey that the bed 
of the dry stream, if it is dry, shows a sort of 
golden strip. That is all I can make of it. 
There seems to be nothing else in the book 
in reference to the subject in which we are 
particularly interested. I am certain that the 
poor man knew what he was saying; I believe 
that he believed he had found what he says he 
found. Whether he did find it or not is quite 


168 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


another matter. In any event Lost River and 
the lost mine are well worth looking for as we 
go along. If there be such a place, Overland 
luck will lead us to it,” finished Grace. 

4 4 1 doubt it—I was going to say I hope Over¬ 
land luck doesn’t lead us to it, to our River of 
Doubt. Oh, Grace!” 

44 Wha—at is it?” 

44 Oh, look!” 

A black head of hair, lifted just above the 
level of the rock on the far side, revealed a low 
forehead and a pair of burning black eyes— 
evil eyes they seemed to the two startled girls. 
They could not see the hands that were grip¬ 
ping the edge of the rock, but what they could 
see was sufficient to fill them with alarm. 

Without an instant’s hesitation, Elfreda 
Briggs snatched up a chunk of flinty rock and 
hurled it with all her might. The chunk of 
rock fell a couple of yards short of the mark, 
bounced up into the air, and landed fairly on 
the man’s head. 

44 Who says a woman can’t throw a stone!” 
cried J. Elfreda Briggs almost hysterically. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


169 


CHAPTER XYI 

BANDIES TAKE THEIR TOLL 

U T^ UN!” cried Grace. 

“The diary !” exclaimed Elfreda, as 
Grace dropped the book, snatched it 
np, and ran clambering down the rocks. 

The guide saw them coining, saw that some¬ 
thing was wrong, and strode forward to meet 
the two girls. 

“What is it?” he asked sharply. 

“A prowler,” answered Grace, out of breath. 

“Where?” 

“There! On the other side of the rock. 
He was spying on us, and I think Miss Briggs 
hit him with a piece of rock,’ ’ exclaimed Grace. 

“Lieutenant!” called Hamilton White, and 
sprinted around the base of the big rock. 
Hippy Wingate was not far behind him, though 
Hippy did not know what had occurred, nor did 
he wait for an explanation. He knew that there 
was trouble, and that was sufficient for him. 

The two men reached their objective at about 
the same time. White was peering at the rocks 
and bushes at the base of the big rock. 


170 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“Miss Briggs did hit him. See the blood 
there, and the bushes crushed where he fell. 
She must have given him a good wallop,” ho 
chuckled. 

White began to run the trail, a trail that was 
plain and easily followed. Hippy was right 
behind him, using his eyes to good advantage. 

“Lieutenant, I think you had best go back 
and watch the camp. This may be a trick to 
coax us men away. Keep a sharp lookout. 
Have Brown stand guard with you. There is 
little need to worry, for we can see and hear. 
Skip! ’ ’ urged the guide. 

Hippy lost no time in getting back to camp, 
and when he reached there he found Grace and 
Elfreda laughing, and explaining to their 
companions what had happened. 

They repeated the story to him. 

“Oh, well, let them fuss. They can’t do any¬ 
thing to us, ’ ’ averred Lieutenant Wingate after 
he had heard all of the story. “I’ll sit on top 
of the rock and watch over you children.” 

“That’s what I say,” agreed Stacy. “We 
men can beat them at their own game, and have 
a lap or so to spare. Ham will chase them so 
far away that they never will find their way 
back. If he doesn’t I will.” 

“Don’t be too positive,” admonished Grace. 
“I think it wise for us to be on the alert. For 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


171 


some reason those ruffians are determined to 
be rid of us, at least.’’ 

6c Oh, I hope Hamilton will take care of him¬ 
self,” murmured Emma, whereat her compan¬ 
ions laughed heartily. 

None of the girls left the immediate camp 
all that morning; they even sent Stacy to the 
spring for water, much to that young man’s 
disgust, for Stacy had planned on having a fine 
day’s sleep in his tent. 

Noon came, and the guide had not returned, 
so Grace decided that they would have some¬ 
thing to eat. The girls got the meal. 

After they sat down to eat, the girls tried to 
be merry, but they admitted that they missed 
Hamilton White, though none felt alarm at 
his absence. The meal finished, dishes were 
washed and put away, and packs laid out for 
a quick move, in the event of that becoming 
necessary, for by this time the Overland Riders 
had learned to be ready at a moment’s notice. 

Hippy from his point of vantage kept guard 
over the camp and its vicinity, now and then 
studying the view spread out before him. The 
air was fragrant with the odor of the forest, 
and Hippy grew sleepy. To keep awake he 
decided to get down and walk. This he did, 
reaching the ground on the side of the rock 
farthest from the camp. 


172 


GEACE HAELOWE ON 


The Overlander, with only a revolver, strolled 
through the forest making a circle around the 
camp, and studying the trees for blazes and the 
ground for indications of recent visitors. Now 
and then he would sit down, back against a tree, 
and gaze up into the blue sky and the waving 
tops of the big pines. 

The afternoon wore away and Hippy was still 
trail-hunting. It was near supper time when 
Nora called him. There was no answer, so 
she climbed the rock, expecting to find her 
husband sleeping, for Hippy loved sleep fully 
as much as Stacy Brown did. 

Lieutenant Wingate was not on the rock, but 
Nora found his rifle laying there. She ran back 
to her companions in alarm. 

“Hippy isn’t there!” she cried. “Oh, girls, 
can anything have happened to him?” Nora 
was on the verge of tears. 

“No, of course not,” comforted Grace. 

“Then where is he?” 

“Probably asleep somewhere about,” sug¬ 
gested Emma. “You know he and Stacy have 
the sleep habit.” 

“I don’t believe it. I am going out to search 
for him.” 

“Nora, you will not!” differed Grace with 
emphasis. “We will all remain where we are. 
l To get separated would be foolish. Hippy is 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


173 


all right, so sit down and chat with ns. Mr. 
White will be along soon, and some others 
besides Emma Dean will be glad to see him,” 
she added, with a teasing glance at Emma. 

The Overland girls ate a cold supper that 
night, no one feeling like cooking or sitting 
down to a hearty meal. Nora was so worried 
that she refused to eat at all, and, while the 
other girls were equally disturbed, they masked 
their real feelings by teasing each other. 
Emma and Stacy were ragged unmercifully. 

Darkness settled over the forest, but still 
no Hippy, no guide. 

“I think it will be advisable to bring in the 
horses, don’t you, Elfreda?” asked Grace. 

Miss Briggs and the others thought that 
would be a wise move, so the ponies, and such 
of their equipment as w T as outside the camp, 
were brought in; fuel was gathered and piled 
up so that they might keep the fire burning; 
then the party sat down in their tents, with 
blankets thrown over their shoulders, and 
began their watch. 

It was ten o’clock that night when the hail 
of Ham White was heard, and after the tension 
of the last few hours the Overland girls felt like 
screaming a welcome. Instead they sprang out 
and stood awaiting him. 

4 4 Well, did you good people think I had 


174 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


deserted you?” lie cried out. “I am nearly 
famished. Is there anything left from dinner ?’ * 

“Yes, of course there is. I will get you 
something. First I must tell you. Mr. Win¬ 
gate has been missing since some time this 
afternoon. We don’t know what to make of it 
unless he has fallen asleep somewhere,” said 
Grace. 

‘ 4 What! Tell me about it.” 

Nora told the guide the story, explaining 
that Hippy had taken up his station on the 
rock to guard the camp, and that that was the 
last they saw of him. 

Ham White was disturbed, but he did not 
show it. Instead he laughed. 

“No doubt, as Mrs. Gray has suggested, he 
has gone to sleep. Where is Mr. Brown?” 

“He is asleep in his tent, as usual,” spoke 
up Emma. “Oh, Hamilton, won’t you please 
find Hippy—now?” 

“I will do my best. Give me a snack and 
I’ll go out now. I followed the other trail for 
something like five miles. There were four 
men in the party, only one of whom came near 
the camp. The trail finally bumped into the 
side of a mountain and I lost it. It was so dark 
I could not follow it farther. Thank you!” 
he added, as Emma handed him some bacon. 
“I will go right out.” 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


175 


They followed him around the rock and 
watched with keen interest as Ham White 
searched for and found the trail of the missing 
Hippy, which he followed, with the aid of his 
pocket lamp, for some distance. 

“He was strolling,” announced the guide. 
“You can see here where he sat down to rest, 
then went on. Please return to camp. Unless 
he wandered off and lost his way, I shall prob¬ 
ably soon find him.” 

The girls promptly turned back towards 
camp, Nora with reluctance, which she made 
no effort to conceal. Then followed two hours 
of anxiety. The guide returned shortly after 
midnight. 

“There is no use of searching farther to¬ 
night,” he announced. “Mr. Wingate undoubt¬ 
edly has strayed away, but I’ll find him in the 
morning. Please turn in and get some rest, 
for we shall undoubtedly have an active day 
to-morrow. In any event, don’t lose your 
nerve, Mrs. Wingate. The Lieutenant has had 
enough experience to know how to take care of 
himself.” 

Nora went to her tent weeping, Emma 
Dean’s arm around her, but Grace held back at 
a gesture from Elfreda, who had observed that 
the guide studiously avoided looking directly 
at Nora Wingate. 


176 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


4 4 Mr. White, have yon anything to say to 
us?” questioned Elfreda. 

“Meaning what?” 

“We wish to know what you really did dis¬ 
cover. It was well not to say any more than 
you did to Mrs. Wingate.” 

“You made a discovery of some sort—of 
that we are convinced,” spoke up Grace. 

“ Yes, I did , 9 9 admitted White. ‘‘1 found the 
lieutenant’s revolver beside a tree where he 
had been sitting. His trail ended there!” 

“Meaning?” persisted Miss Briggs. 

‘ 6 That he was attacked and carried away, in 
all probability. I found evidences of that.” 

“What can be done?” demanded Elfreda. 

“Nothing until morning. I have means of 
obtaining assistance, which I will employ as 
soon as it is light enough to see.” 

The girls turned away and walked slowly 
to their tent, and the guide stepped over to 
the tent occupied by Hippy and Stacy Brown. 
He was out in a moment and striding towards 
Elfreda’s quarters. 

“Miss Briggs! Mrs. Gray!” he called. 

“Yes!” answered the voices of Elfreda and 
Grace. 

‘ ‘ Stacy Brown is not in his tent. There has 
been a struggle, and the boy has been forcibly 
removed,” was the startling announcement. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 177 


CHAPTER XVII 

A TEST OF COURAGE 

“QjTA—STACY gone?” exclaimed Elfreda 
Briggs. “It can’t be possible. He is 
playing one of bis practical jokes on 

us.” 

“Let us look, but don’t disturb Emma and 
Nora if it can be avoided,” urged Grace. 

The two girls, with the guide, repaired to 
Lieutenant Wingate’s tent, and examined it, 
using their pocket lamps. It was as Hamilton 
White had said—there was every evidence that 
a struggle had taken place there. The fat 
boy’s hat and his revolver lay where they had 
been hurled to one side of the tent. His blouse 
was a yard or so to the rear, and the imprint 
of his heels where they had been dragged over 
the ground was plainly visible. 

“He must have been asleep,” nodded White. 

“Yes,” agreed Grace. “If awake Stacy 
would have set up such a howl that none could 
have failed to hear. When do you think this 
was done, Mr. White?” 

“When we were out looking for the lieu- 

12*—-—Grace Harlowe on Lost River 


178 


GEACE HAELOWE ON 


tenant. If you will remember, Mr. Brown re¬ 
mained behind.” 

“Do you think it wise to follow bis trailf” 
asked Grace. 

“No. Not now. I dare not leave the camp. 
All this may be part of a plan. My duty is 
here, at least until daylight, when I will get 
into communication with those who will find 
both men. ’’ 

“You think so, Mr. White!” questioned El- 
freda anxiously. 

“Yes. It is the work of the same gang, but 
what their motive is we can only surmise. You 
and Mrs. Gray may know.” 

Elfreda felt her face growing hot, and a re¬ 
tort was on her lips, but she suppressed it. 

‘ 4 Mrs. Gray, if you think I should try to run 
the trail now, I will do so, but it would be 
against my judgment. I hope you do not in¬ 
sist,” said White, turning to Grace. 

“I believe you are right,” answered Grace. 
“Come, Elfreda, we will go to our tent, for no 
serious harm can come either to Hippy or 
Stacy. They dare not harm them.” 

Ham White did not reply. He knew the 
character of the men who committed that piece 
of banditry, and knew that they would hesitate 
at no crime to gain their ends, whatever those 
ends might be. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


179 


The guide got no sleep that night. Mindful 
of the attacks that had been made on the camp, 
he took up his position at a distance, and, with 
rifle in hand, sat motionless the rest of the 
night. From his position in the deep shadows 
he commanded a view of the entire camp, 
which was dimly lighted by the campfire all 
night long. 

There were occasional sounds that Ham 
White did not believe were made by maraud¬ 
ing animals, but none were definite enough to 
warrant exposing his position. During his 
vigil nothing occurred to disturb the sleepers. 

The graying mists of the early morning were 
rising from gulch and forest, enfolding the 
mountaintops, when Ham White stole around 
the camp, scrutinizing every foot of the ground. 
By the time he had completed this task the 
mists were so far cleared away that a good 
view of the surrounding country might be had. 

From his kit the guide selected a wigwag 
signalling flag, and taking one of the tent poles 
for use as a flagstaff, he went cautiously to 
the high rock that stood sentinel over the Over¬ 
land camp, and climbed to its top. 

‘ ‘ I hope none of the girls wake up , 9 9 he mut¬ 
tered, peering down into the camp, which was 
as quiet as a deserted forest. 

Ham White, after attaching the flag to the 


180 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


pole, began waving it up and down, which in 
the wigwag code means, “I wish to speak with 
you. ’ ’ 

It was at this juncture that Grace Harlowe 
slowly opened her eyes. Where she lay she 
could look straight up to the top of the rock 
without making the slightest movement, and 
her amazement must have been reflected in her 
eyes. 

Like several of the Overland girls, Grace’s 
experience in the war had included learning to 
signal and to read signals. She was out of 
practice, but was easily able to read any mes¬ 
sage not sent too fast. Ham began his mes¬ 
sage, after getting the attention of the persons 
to whom he was signalling, at a speed that 
Grace could not follow. She did, however, 
catch a few words that were enlightening. 

6 6 Trouble—Haley—Trail—Send word—Cau¬ 
tion—Great secrecy or expose hands—Fatal 
to—” were some of the words that she caught 
as the guide flashed them off. Then he paused. 

“How I wish I could see the answer,” mut¬ 
tered the Overland girl, as she watched Hamil¬ 
ton White, with glasses at his eyes, receiving 
the message that was being sent to him. 

Grace Harlowe’s, however, were not the only 
pair of eyes that witnessed that exhibition of 
signalling. Other eyes were observing, but 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


181 


that other pair could not read a word of what 
the signallers were saying. 

White dropped his glasses and snatched up 
his flag, and she read, this time with greater 
ease: 

“It may be fatal. Great danger to both. 
My responsibility. Must have instant action. 
This an order. Obey without loss time. Re¬ 
port soon as anything to say.” The guide 
signed his name, and the words that followed 
the signature filled Grace Harlowe with amaze¬ 
ment. She saw the guide remove the flag from 
its staff and hide it under a stone, after which 
he descended to the camp, passing the open 
tents without so much as a glance at them. 

Ham stirred up the fire and put over the 
breakfast, and, while it was cooking, Grace 
came out, greeting him cheerfully. 

“Is there any news, Mr. White?” she asked 
sweetly. 

“No, not yet.” 

“What have you done?” 

“I signalled to a fire-lookout station that as¬ 
sistance was needed. It is best to wait until 
we hear from them.” 

“How, signal?” she questioned, appearing 
not to understand. 

“By the air route, Mrs. Gray,” was the 
smiling reply. 


182 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


Grace Harlowe shrugged her shoulders. 

“You are a very clever man, Mr. White,” 
she said, and walked to her tent to awaken 
Miss Briggs. 

When informed that Stacy Brown was miss¬ 
ing, a few moments later, Nora Wingate became 
hysterical, but Grace and Elfreda calmed her, 
and the party were ready to sit down to break¬ 
fast when the guide announced it as ready. 

It was a trying, anxious morning for the 
little band of Overlanders. White made fre¬ 
quent trips to the rock, observed questioningly 
by Elfreda. 

“What is he looking for, Grace?” she asked. 
“Does the man expect to find the bandits that 
way?” 

“I don’t know. Why not ask him, J. El¬ 
freda?” 

“ No11. You know I would not. ’ 9 

About mid-forenoon Grace suggested to the 
guide that he go out into the forest and see if 
he could glean any information as to the di¬ 
rection that the kidnappers had taken when 
they left the camp, with either Hippy or Stacy 
Brown. 

White pondered the subject a moment, then 
agreed. 

“If you will promise not to leave camp, 
and to fire a shot at the least suspicious sound 
or occurrence, I will go out,” he said. “One 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


183 


of you had better go to the rock and take 
station there until my return.’’ 

Grace said she would do that. Matters were 
working out to her satisfaction, and, after tell¬ 
ing Elfreda to take her rifle and post herself 
a short distance to the rear of the camp, and 
assigning Emma and Nora to the right and 
left ends of their camping place, Grace climbed 
the rock and sat down. After Ham White, 
following a survey of the camp and her ar¬ 
rangements, of which he approved with a nod 
and a wave of the hand, had left the camp, 
Grace got up and looked for the signal flag, 
which she found under a flat stone. 

“Now! Having disposed of my companions 
I shall see what I shall and can see,” she told 
herself. 

Securing the signal flag, the Overland girl 
took a survey of the landscape. A vast sea of 
dense forest lay all about her, broken here and 
there by a white-capped mountain. Nothing 
that looked as if it might be a fire-lookout sta¬ 
tion attracted her eyes. She had used her field 
glasses, but without result. 

A moment of vigorous signalling on her part 
followed, after which Grace swept the land¬ 
scape again. She discovered nothing at all. 
Another trial was made, and the word “an¬ 
swer” was spelled out by her. 


184 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


Her eye caught a faint something far to the 
north of her, and Grace’s glasses were at her 
eyes in a twinkling. A little white flag was 
fluttering up and down against the background 
of forest green in the far distance. 

“I’ve got him!” cried the girl exultingly. 
I’ve got him!” Then, wigwagging, Grace 
Harlowe signalled the one word, “Report!” 

“Who?” came the answer, almost before 
she could get the glasses to her eyes to read 
the message. 

“For White,” she wigwagged. “Report!” 

Holding the flag, now lowered to the rock, 
with one hand, the other holding the glasses to 
her eyes, Grace bent every faculty to watching 
that little fluttering, bobbing square of white, 
that, at her distance from it, looked little larger 
than a postage stamp. 

“Repeat!” she interrupted frequently, when¬ 
ever part of a word was missed. It was a 
laborious effort for her, out of practice as she 
was, and the exchange of messages lasted for 
a full half hour before the Overland girl gave 
her unseen, unknown signaller the “0. K.” 
signal. 

Grace folded the flag and placed it under 
the stone, then straightened up. 

“Mr. Hamilton White, I have you now!” she 
exclaimed, a triumphant note in her voice. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 185 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE FLAMING ARROW 



HERE am I at!” 

It was Hippy Wingate’s first con¬ 
scious moment since he was struck 


down while sleeping with his back against a 
tree not far from the Overland camp. All was 
darkness about him as he awakened in un¬ 
familiar surroundings. Essaying to rise, the 
Overlander discovered that he was bound. 
Still worse, there was a gag in his mouth. 

A gentle breeze was blowing over him, and 
at first he thought he was still under the trees. 
Hippy then realized that there was a hard floor 
beneath him. His head ached, and when he 
tried to sit up he found that it swam dizzily. 

“I wonder what happened to me!” he mut¬ 
tered. 4 ‘Hello!” 

There was no response to his call; in fact, 
his voice, still weak, did not carry far and it 
was thick because of the gag. Then began a 
struggle with himself, that, while it exhausted 
him for the time being, aided in overcoming 
his dizziness. 


186 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


Hippy heard men conversing, heard them ap¬ 
proaching, whereupon he pretended still to be 
unconscious. A door was flung wide open, and 
a lantern, held high, lighted up the interior of 
the building with a faint radiance. 

“Hain’t woke up,” announced one of the two 
men who stood in the doorway. 

“Mebby he never will,” answered the other. 

“I don’t reckon it makes much difference, 
so long as we got two of ’em,” returned the 
first speaker. “What shall we do—let ’im 
sleep?” 

“Yes.” 

The man with the lantern strode over and 
peered down at the prostrate Overlander, 
while the prisoner, from beneath what seemed 
to be closed eyelids, got a good look into the 
swarthy, hard-lined face. Lieutenant Wingate 
would remember that face—he would remem¬ 
ber the voices of both men—would know them 
wherever he heard them. 

“Let ’im sleep. When he wakes up we’ll 
have something to say to ’im. ’ ’ With that the 
two men went out, slamming the door behind 
them. 

The lantern light had shown Hippy that he 
was in a log cabin. At his back was a window, 
or a window-opening, for which he was thank¬ 
ful, as it offered a possible way of escape. But 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


187 


liow, in his present condition, could he hope 
to gain his liberty? 

There was no answer to the Overlander ’s 
mental question. First, he must regain his 
strength. The leather thongs with which he 
was bound interfered with his circulation, and 
his legs were numb. So were his arms, and his 
jaws ached from the gag that was between his 
teeth. In fact, Lieutenant Hippy Wingate did 
not remember ever to have suffered so many 
aches and pains at one time as he had at that 
moment. 

He began his struggles again, but more with 
the idea of starting his circulation and gaining 
strength than with any immediate hope of es¬ 
cape. By rolling over several times he was 
able to reach the door, but having reached it 
he had no hands with which to open it. Hippy 
wanted to look out. Failing there, he be¬ 
thought himself of the window, and rolled back 
across the floor to it. Exerting a great effort, 
he managed to work his head up to the window 
so he could see out. 

The night was dark, but the Overlander was 
able to make out trees and rugged rocky walls, 
together with what appeared to be a dense 
mass of bushes. The scene was unlike any¬ 
thing he had seen in the State of Washington 
since his party had started on their outing. 


188 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“I may be up in the Canadian Rockies, for 
all I know,” he muttered. 

Hippy sank down, weak and trembling. 

For a change, he rolled back and forth, 
pulling himself up to the window again and 
again, and each time found himself stronger 
than before. 

“If I were free and had a gun I’d show those 
cowards something!” raged the Overlander, 
his anger rising. “Why did they have to pick 
on me? I wonder what the folks at the camp 
are think—” 

“Sh-h-h-h!” 

It was a low, sibilant hiss from the window, 
and Hippy fell suddenly silent. 

“Keep quiet and listen to me,” warned a 
hoarse voice. “The gang is out of range, but 
we don’t know when one or more of ’em will be 
back. I’m coming in.” 

Not being able to answer, except with a 
grunt, the Overlander merely grunted his un¬ 
derstanding. 

The stranger leaped into the room and felt 
for the prisoner. 

“I am going to cut you loose. Are you 
wounded ? ’ ’ 

“No, I think not,” mumbled Hippy, but his 
;words were unintelligible. 

L The first thing the stranger did was to re- 


THE LOST EIYEB TRAIL 


189 


move the gag, which he did with so much care 
that the operation gave no pain. Then came 
the leather thongs. These he ripped off with 
a few deft sweeps of a knife, and Lieutenant 
Wingate was a free man so far as his bonds 
were concerned. 

“Can you walk?” in the same hoarse voice. 

“I could fly if I had to,” was the brief reply. 
“Who are you?” 

“You wouldn’t know if I told you. Here!” 
The man thrust a revolver into his hand. 
“Don’t use it unless you have to. We aren’t 
out of the woods by 1 a long shot. Come! ’ ’ 

The stranger assisted Hippy through the 
window, which was accomplished with some dif¬ 
ficulty, for Lieutenant Wingate was stiff and 
sore. A firm hand was fixed on his arm, and 
his companion began leading him rapidly away. 
Not a word was spoken for several minutes— 
not until they had plunged into the dark depths 
of a canyon, through which the man picked 
the way unerringly. 

“How are you standing it?” was the ques¬ 
tion abruptly put to Lieutenant Wingate. 

“Rotten! But I’ll pick up speed as I go 
along and get my motors warmed up.” 

The stranger chuckled. 

“Where are we going?” 

“We are headed for your camp, but it’s 


190 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


quite a hike and a hard one. If you get leg- 
weary, stop and rest a bit. How’d they get 
you?’’ 

“I went to sleep just outside the camp, and 
I think I must have got a clump on the head. 
Ouch! ’ ’ Hippy had lifted a hand to his head, 
and felt there a bump as big as an egg. “I 
guess I did get a clump. It’s a wonder I’m 
not dead. When is it, to-day or to-morrow ?” 

“It’s the day after,” was the half humorous 
reply. 

“Please tell me how you found me?” asked 
the Overlander. 

“Ham White got in touch with some people 
I know. They got word to me, and gave me 
the tip. The same people saw the gang that 
got you heading for the pass where you were 
taken, so I made for that place as soon as I 
got the word from White. I was lucky; I 
might have had to hunt the whole state over 
for you. The gang made a bad play when they 
picked you up. We’ve got a line on them 
now. ’ ’ 

“Who is we?” interjected Hippy. 

“All of us,” was the non-committal reply. 
“Don’t speak so loudly. It isn’t safe yet.” 

That walk Hippy Wingate never forgot. 
Every step sent shooting pains through his 
head and legs. He stumbled frequently, but 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


191 


every time the grip of the stranger tightened 
on his arm, and he was kept on his feet. 

‘ * When you get to camp, tell your people to 
watch out. Some of the gang are still out on 
trail. I reckon they aren’t out for any good, 
and they may be planning to rush your camp 
and get the rest of your party.” 

“Why do they want us?” wondered Lieu¬ 
tenant Wingate. “Is it robbery?” 

“Yes, but not the sort of robbery you think. 
Tell your friend Miss Briggs that it’s time she 
told her party her story. She knows why.” 

“I begin to see a light,” muttered the Over¬ 
lander. “Say! There’s something familiar 
about your voice, but I can’t place it. Got a 
cold?” 

“Yes.” 

Little conversation was indulged in after 
that, and at last Hippy’s rescuer halted and 
pointed. 

“See that light?” he asked in a whisper. 

“Yes.” 

1 c That’s your camp. I leave you here. Take 
my advice, and don’t make much noise to-night. 
Keep your fire low, and post guards. Tell 
White there is a man out here wants to see him. 
You need not let the others know about my 
being here. I’m in a hurry. Good-night.” 

“But—won’t you come—” 


192 


GEACE HAELOWE ON 


“Go on!” 

Hippy wavered a little as lie started towards 
the camp, into which he staggered a few min¬ 
utes later. 

A cry greeted his appearance, and Nora’s 
arms were flung about his neck ere he had 
fairly reached the light of the campfire. He 
held up his hand for silence. 

“Give me something to eat, if you love me. 
I’m famished.” 

Nora ran for the coffee pot, which Ham 
White took from her. Hippy stepped over to 
him and whispered something to the guide, as 
he relieved White of the coffee pot. 

White immediately left the camp. 

By now the other members of the party were 
about Hippy shoving their joy at his return. 

“Have you seen Stacy?” demanded Grace 
eagerly, as soon as she could get his attention. 

“No. 'Why?” 

“He, too, has been missing, and—” 

“The curs!” raged Lieutenant Wingate. 
“So they got him, too, did they?” 

“Never mind now. You must drink and eat. 
Where is Mr. White?” wondered Grace, glanc¬ 
ing quickly about the camp. 

“I sent him out on an errand,” answered 
Hippy. “Ah! The coffee is not so hot that 
it burns, but it’s nectar.” 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


193 


“Oh, my darlin’! Your head!” cried Nora, 
just discovering the swelling there. 

Elfreda was at his side in an instant, ex¬ 
amining the lump that, to Hippy, seemed fully 
as big as his head itself. Miss Briggs ran to 
her tent for liniment, and in a moment was 
applying it to the sore spot. 

Hippy’s story was brief, because there was 
little that he could tell them. He was amazed 
when he learned that he had been away so long. 

Grace explained to him how White had 
reached some lookouts on the range and got 
them to go in search of him. “How they found 
you so soon, I don’t understand. Do you?” 

Hippy shook his head. 

“There are some things in this neck of the 
woods that are beyond explaining. I hope they 
didn’t give Stacy such a wallop as I got. But 
don’t worry about him. They can’t keep him 
long. Stacy will eat them out of his way. I 
was easy. He isn’t.” 

Ham White returned at this juncture. 

“We shall probably have another guest to¬ 
night, if all goes well,” he announced. 

“A guest?” wondered the Overlanders. 

“So I am informed; perhaps more than one. 
Do not ask any questions, for I can’t answer 
them. Well, Lieutenant, you had a rough time 
of it, didn’t you?” 

13 - Grace Harlowe on Lost River 


194 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


1 ‘ The Germans could not have done anything 
much worse.” 

“Would you recognize any of the fellows 
who captured you?” questioned White. 

6 * I saw only two, but I shall know them when 
I see them, and they will have reason to know 
me, for—” 

“ Hamilton, who are the guests you are ex¬ 
pecting?” urged Emma in her sweetest tone 
of voice. 

“Sorry, Miss Dean, but I can’t tell you.” 

“Isn’t that just like a man—making a mys¬ 
tery of everything? I think—” 

“Hello, folks!” cried a voice from the bush. 

The Overlanders fairly jumped at the sound 
of the familiar voice. 

“Tom! Tom Gray!” cried Grace, running 
and throwing herself into her husband’s arms. 
“How happy I am to see you, you will never 
know. I needed you, Tom—we all have needed 
you, and I think we shall need you still more. 
Where did you come from?” 

“Hello, old chap!” cried Hippy jovially. 

The Overlanders crowded around Captain 
Tom Gray joyously. 

“How are you, White!” greeted Grace’s 
husband, as soon as he could free himself from 
the welcome of Grace, Nora and Emma. “I 
have been looking forward to meeting you, and 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


195 


I knew, from what I had heard, just the sort 
of man you would be—I mean as to looks,’’ 
added Tom, grinning. “The men on the range 
are looking forward to seeing their—” 

A warning look from the guide checked Tom. 

“I will explain later,” whispered the guide. 

“I thank you for sending for me,” bowed 
Tom, with ready resourcefulness. “I knew 
that the need must be urgent or you would not 
have done so. ’’ 

“Yes. I have a double responsibility—a 
moral and a physical one, and I felt that I had 
no right to go farther until I had consulted 
with Mrs. Gray’s husband. We are heading 
for trouble, in fact we have already been having 
it.” 

“Tell me about it. I know some of the facts, 
but I want them at first hand.” 

“Miss Briggs knows the story. I suggest 
that she relate the story of her experiences, 
which will give you the slant I want you to get. 
I suppose you know of the kidnapping of Lieu¬ 
tenant Wingate and Stacy Brown?” asked the 
guide. 

“The bare facts only. J. Elfreda, you seem 
to be the pivotal point on this journey. Grace 
is holding my hand so tightly that I shall have 
to ask her to give me a chance to listen to you,” 
answered Tom laughingly. 


196 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


Emma offered to demonstrate to give Tom a 
“chance” to hear the story. Grace laughed 
happily. A great load of responsibility and 
worry had been lifted from her shoulders. 

“I will be good, J. Elfreda. Please tell Tom 
everything—everything, remember. Mr. White, 
we wish you to sit in,” added Grace, as the 
guide discreetly moved away. 

There followed a moment of silence, then 
Elfreda Briggs began the story of the fire, of 
her arrival at the forest cabin, and of the dra¬ 
matic occurrences there. She told of the diary, 
of the loss of the gold dust, and of the general 
directions that Sam Petersen had left for 
locating the claim, though Elfreda did not say 
what those directions were. She thought it ad¬ 
visable not to do so. 

Hippy got up and walked to his tent, re¬ 
turning shortly and standing with his back to 
a tree and his hands in his pockets as Miss 
Briggs finished her story. 

Grace took up the story from that point, 
relating all that had occurred since Elfreda’s 
experience in the forest shack, but avoiding 
what she had learned through her wigwag¬ 
ging about Hamilton White. 

Tom Gray pondered over the story, stroking 
his cheek, which Tom always did when think¬ 
ing deeply. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


197 


“The Murrays, eh, White?” he questioned, 
glancing up at the guide. 

Ham White nodded. 

4 ‘It looks that way,” replied White. 

“They know about this Lost River story, do 
you think?” 

“Most everyone does up here. It is an old 
Indian legend, and probably has no more foun¬ 
dation in fact than most Indian legends,” 
answered the guide. “Mind you, I am not 
saying that such a place doesn’t exist. No 
doubt there are many rich veins in the Cascade 
Range yet to be discovered. Petersen evi¬ 
dently believed he had found it, but he un¬ 
doubtedly w^as delirious when he described the 
spot. He had been shot, you know.” 

“When he made the entries in his diary he 
hadn’t been shot,” retorted Miss Briggs with 
some warmth. She checked herself sharply. 

“Not having seen the entries I cannot say,” 
replied White. 

“WTiat puzzles me is what became of the 
contents of the bag of gold. Surely the bandit 
who came back did not take it, for he did not 
have the opportunity,” reminded Captain 
Gray. “What became of it, Elfreda?” 

“Have a look at this,” spoke up Hippy Win¬ 
gate, tossing a small leather pouch of his own 
into Elfreda’s lap. 


198 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“Wha—what—” gasped the girl. 

“It is the gold you thought had been stolen, 
and—” 

A peculiar whirring sound checked what 
Hippy was about to say. The Overlanders 
glanced up and saw descending upon them 
what they took to be a falling firebrand, with 
a streamer of light like the tail of a comet 
following it. 

“Look out!” shouted Hippy. 

His warning was not necessary, for the 
Overland Riders had leaped to their feet and 
ran for cover. The firebrand hit the ground 
with a thud, and as it landed Hamilton White 
threw a blanket on it, and himself on the blan¬ 
ket to smother the flame. The guide knew that 
there was a meaning in that flaming visitor’s 
arrival, and he wished to ascertain it. 

“Oh, Hamilton, what is it?” cried Emma. 

‘ ‘ The flaming arrow!’ y exclaimed Tom Gray. 
“That’s an Indian trick. No white man ever 
thought of that. What does it mean, White?” 

“Wait!” The guide removed a thin piece 
of bark that had been bound to the arrow near 
its butt, and from under the bark he drew out 
a piece of paper. “It is a message,” he an¬ 
nounced after peering at the piece of paper, 
and then handed it to Tom Gray. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


199 


CHAPTER XIX 

HIS FATE IN THE BALANCE 

T’S a red hot one, I’ll bet!” exclaimed 

I Hippy. 

“Hippy!” admonished Nora. 

* 1 What is it, Tom?” begged Grace, slipping" 
an arm through his. “I think I know.” 

“You are right, Hippy.” Captain Gray 
held the slip of paper down so the feeble light 
of the fire shone upon it. “It is from Stacy. 
Listen: 

“ ‘Help! I’m in Dutch again. Get me out, 
quick. They are a lot of ruf—of fine gentle¬ 
men here, but they want something that you’ve 
got. If they don’t get it I’m to be shot at sun¬ 
rise. Oh, wow! They want a book they say 
you have, and they want it bad. You are to 
leave it on top of the rock by the camp and go 
away. They want something else, too—a bag 
of gold that you or somebody took from that 
fellow Petersen. Mebby I’ll see him soon. Do 
you folks know anything about the gold? I 
told them the nearest thing to gold that I’d 
seen up here was a sunset the other night. 


200 


GRACE HARLOWE 


They say the book and the gold doesn’t belong 
to you—that one of our party stole it. You 
folks have been holding out on me! I’ll be 
even with you for that. Can’t write any more 
’cause the mail man won’t wait. Hurry, for 
the love of Mike! Hurry or I’m a dead one! 
Wow! Stacy.’” 

“They wouldn’t dare!” cried Nora. 

“Oh, yes they would,” answered Tom. 
“The Murrays are a desperate gang. Even 
if they get what they demand they might put 
him out of the way, but it is my opinion that 
they will simply set him adrift, in which event 
we shall find him. How do you communicate, 
White?” he asked, turning to the guide. 

“He wigwags,” spoke up Grace; whereat 
the guide gave her a quick glance, but the Over¬ 
land girl’s face told him nothing. 

“Please take your flashlight and see if you 
can pick up a station with it, White. If so, 
tell them where the boy may possibly be ^nd 
ask them to send someone after him.” 

“Just a moment, Captain. May I speak 
with you aside?” 

Tom stepped away from his companions, and 
he and the guide held a long whispered con¬ 
versation. Tom then returned to the others. 

“Mr. White advises against doing as I sug¬ 
gested. He says the rangers are already look- 



11 The Flaming Arrow! * * 
201 
































202 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


ing for Stacy, and that to signal would simply 
be putting the bandits on their guard. There 
are other reasons which he has given me in con¬ 
fidence. You shall know all about it later on. 
Now may I see that diary, Miss Briggs?” 

“Yes, of course. Throw it away if you like. 
I never want to see the hateful thing again. 
What I do think I am entitled to, though, is an 
explanation from you, Hippy Wingate. When, 
where and how did you get my bag of gold?” 

“Perhaps a good little fairy, knowing my 
love for the yellow stuff, dropped it into my 
mess kit so that I might buy gold plates to use 
at meals in place of the luxurious tin plates 
that I am now using. How did you get it, J. 
Elfreda?” 

“Mr. Petersen gave it to me. He said the 
Murrays knew he had it, and that it was to be 
mine for what he was pleased to call my kind¬ 
ness to him. He gave me the diary at the same 
time because it held a supposed clue to Lost 
Mine and Lost River, a river paved with gold.” 

“I don’t wonder that Stacy accuses us of 
4 holding out on him,’ ” chuckled Tom Gray. 

“I might, and with very good reason, make 
the same accusation against certain persons 
unmentionable,” retorted Miss Briggs, which 
brought a laugh from her companions. 

Tom Gray, in the meantime, had been run- 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


203 


ning over the pages of the diary, noting every 
entry made by the old prospector. 

“A leaf has been torn out of here. It looks 
as if it were lately torn out. Did you do it!” 
he asked, addressing Miss Briggs. 

Grace explained that the leaf was torn out 
when the book was snatched from her hand one 
night, of which circumstance she had already 
told Tom. 

“What was on it!” 

“We destroyed the leaf,” spoke up Miss 
Briggs. 

“That wasn’t what I asked you, J. Elfreda. 
Of course you do not have to answer if you 
don’t wish to. I am simply trying to get at 
the bottom of this affair as a guide to our 
immediate actions. It is very important.” 

Elfreda glanced at Hamilton WLite. He 
caught the glance and, instantly comprehend¬ 
ing, stepped back and began poking the fire 
and putting on fresh fuel. 

“ i Grandma and the Children—three peaks 
due east,’ ” whispered Elfreda. 

She saw a sudden flash in Tom Gray’s eyes, 
an expression that Elfreda was unable to in¬ 
terpret. 

“ ‘WLen the sun is at the meridian the sands 
turn to golden yellow,’ ” he quoted from the 
diary. “This, taken in connection with what 


204 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


you say was on the torn leaf, is quite en¬ 
lightening. I think we will tear out two more 
pages while we are about it, if you have no 
objection.” 

“Go as far as you like, Tom. You may 
throw the book away if you wish. It has 
brought us only bad luck,” said Miss Briggs. 

“I say, White! My suggestion is that we 
leave this confounded diary where Stacy di¬ 
rects us to leave it.” 

“And the gold?” 

“Well, that is different. I don’t like the idea 
of giving gold to those cutthroats. What is the 
value of the stuff? Let us look it over.” 

Tom Gray examined the nuggets, weighed 
them in his hand, a stone at a time, and, dis¬ 
regarding the “dust,” closed and secured the 
bag. Then he opened it, and weighing out sev¬ 
eral nuggets again in his hand, glanced over at 
Miss Briggs. 

“I should say that there is something more 
than two thousand dollars’ worth of nuggets 
and 4 dirt’ there, of which I hold from five to 
seven hundred dollars ’ worth in my hand. El- 
freda, you probably will think I have a cold 
nerve to make the suggestion, but I propose 
that we put these nuggets in a bag with the 
diary and leave them for the bandits.” 

“What! Give five hundred dollars to a 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


205 


bunch of bandits ? ’ ’ cried Hippy aghast. ‘ 1 Im¬ 
possible! Are you crazy ?” 

“We may be, at that,” admitted Captain 
Gray. 

“Say yes. Tom knows what he is doing,” 
whispered Grace, nudging Miss Briggs. 

“Of course, Tom,” replied Elfreda prompt¬ 
ly. “If you say leave it all, I’ll say the same. 
You can’t imagine what a relief it will be to me 
to be rid of it.” 

“Thank you. White! A word with you!” 

An earnest conversation followed between 
Tom Gray and the guide, following which, Ham 
White packed his kit, stowed some food in his 
bag and brought up his horse. 

“Look here, old top! Where are you go¬ 
ing?” demanded Hippy. 

‘ ‘ On business, Lieutenant. The Captain can 
tell you why. I hope to see you soon. Good¬ 
night and good luck.” With that the guide 
turned his horse toward the south, the oppo¬ 
site direction from that which the Overland 
Riders were following. They were amazed, 
and demanded an explanation. 

“It isn’t safe to say a word,” answered Tom. 
“I’ll tell you this much, though. Pack up and 
be ready to start on a long ride within an hour. 
We are heading towards home!” 


206 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


CHAPTER XX 
“i’m shot!” ckies emma 

“J X OME!” cried Nora and Emma in cho- 

I I rus. “No, no, no!” 

“Why go home?” wondered Miss 
Briggs. “I thought we had just started on 
our adventures.” 

“Don’t oppose,” whispered Grace. 

“So that’s the game, is it?” chuckled Hippy, 
who had been regarding Tom narrowly, and 
saw by the expression of Captain Gray’s face 
that he had a definite motive in making the an¬ 
nouncement that they were about to head to¬ 
wards home. 

“All right, Grace. He did not say that we 
are going home,” answered Miss Briggs in re¬ 
ply to Grace. “I might have known. To leave 
here now, with Stacy missing, and our affairs 
in the air, as it were, would be unthinkable. 
I am afraid my brain is becoming addled.” 

“You should demonstrate,” reminded Emma, 
and Elfreda nodded her approval of the sen¬ 
timent. 

Preparations for the departure had already 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


207 


been began by Captain Gray, and now Hippy 
turned in to assist him. Tom soon left to get 
his horse, which had been tethered not far from 
camp. He had refused to answer questions as 
to how he found the camp, nor did Grace ask, 
but the others did. 

When all was in readiness for leaving, packs 
lashed, horses saddled, Tom, taking the diary 
and the gold, went to the rock and hid the stuff 
as the message from Stacy had directed them 
to do. 

‘‘Mount!” ordered Tom upon his return 
from planting the book and the gold, and he 
doused the fire, making certain that every last 
spark was extinguished. He then swung into 
his saddle and led the way, heading south, fol¬ 
lowed silently by the others of the party. They 
wondered how, in the darkness, he could find his 
way, but Tom was taking the stars as his 
guides. He was too experienced a forester not 
to be able to go in any direction in a forest, 
day or night, and go almost unerringly. 

The Overlanders were sleepy and not any 
too happy. They were worrying about Stacy, 
too. There was little conversation because it 
was necessary to give all attention to their rid- » 
ing. Riding in a forest at night is a trying ex¬ 
perience, and sometimes a painful one when 
one considers the bumps, the collisions of legs 


208 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


against trees, and the slaps in the face from 
low-hanging bushes. All this the Overland 
party experienced, so their progress was slow. 

They had proceeded about an hour when a 
distant rifle report was heard. It seemed to 
come from the rear. Tom called a halt to 
listen. A rattling fire sprang up, and contin¬ 
ued for several minutes; then died out after a 
few further scattering shots. 

“Can you locate it, Tom?” called Hippy. 

“I should say that the firing is somewhere 
near the camp we left,” replied Tom. 

‘ 4 Oh, how strange , 9 9 cried Emma. ‘ 4 Why are 
they fighting there, and who is it that is fight¬ 
ing?” 

“Quite possibly it is the bandits fighting 
over J. Elfreda’s gold,” suggested Grace as 
the party, at a command from Tom Gray, 
moved forward again. Some time later the 
leader called back that they were about to come 
upon a small watercourse and that they would 
follow it. 

“We shall probably find plenty of overhang¬ 
ing bushes, so protect your faces,” he directed. 

They wondered how he knew that they were 
near a stream. Tom said he could smell it. 

“Wonderful scent,” growled Hippy. “Per¬ 
haps you can tell us whether or not the water 
is wet.” 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


209 


“It may be for you if you don’t watch your 
step,” answered Captain Gray laughingly. 

They entered the stream a few moments after 
that, and the going proved to be even worse 
than Grace’s husband had predicted. Bushes 
hung over the stream and met, forming a bower 
so low that the riders had to lean well forward 
to protect their faces from being continuously 
whipped. Not alone that, but the horses were 
constantly slipping on moss-covered stones, 
threatening at every moment to unhorse their 
riders. 

Emma wailed her protests ere.they had pro¬ 
ceeded far, but Tom said they must take their 
medicine and be good sports. 

“I don’t want to be a sport,” complained 
Emma. “I want to sleep.” 

“Demonstrate over it,” advised Lieutenant 
Wingate. 

It was just before daylight when Tom headed 
out of the stream through a narrow defile in 
the rocks, finally coming to a halt on a level 
piece of ground of about three acres, sur¬ 
rounded on all sides by mountain forests. 

The Overlanders could not see their sur¬ 
roundings clearly, but got a general idea of 
them, and immediately begged their leader to 
let them dismount for a rest and for a bite to 
eat. 

14—-—Grace Harlowe on Lost River 


210 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“All right! Go to it,” cried Tom Gray, set¬ 
ting them the example by dismounting and re¬ 
moving the saddle from his horse. 

As the day began to dawn, the girls gazed 
interestedly at the terraced forest, at the green 
carpet of mountain meadowland that lay at 
their feet through which flowed a sparkling 
stream of water, then up at the dawning day. 
It was then that Grace made a discovery. 

“Why, Tom, we have been traveling north, 
not south!” she exclaimed. 

“Too true, Loyalheart,” answered Captain 
Gray with a jolly note in his voice. 

“Then we are not on our way home?” cried 
Nora. 

“No. We are going on into the Cascades, in 
the foothills of which we now are. We are go¬ 
ing to find Stacy, and then—perhaps we shall 
find something else. First, folks, we shall have 
to meet and reckon with the bandits of the 
range. They are determined that we shall not 
make a move that they do not check.” 

“Do—do you think they are watching us 
now, Tom?” begged Emma with concern. 

“Possibly, but I rather think they are fully 
occupied at present. I will let you into a se¬ 
cret. The purpose of leaving Elfreda’s gold 
and the old prospector’s diary was to trap the 
bandits and attack them. ’ 9 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


211 


11 Who will attack them ?’ 9 Elfreda asked. 

11 Certain officers of the law who were lying 
in wait about* the camp even before you left 
there. It was a battle on our campground 
that you heard—a battle between the officers 
and the bandits of the range. We will now 
get breakfast and have forty winks of sleep,, 
provided we are not interrupted.’ 9 

Sleep was welcome, even more so than break¬ 
fast. The meal was quickly disposed of and 
the Overlanders lay down with their clothes 
on, Tom advising them to be ready to move 
at an instant’s notice. 

They had not been asleep long ere the crash 
of a rifle brought all members of the party to 
their feet. 

“Lie down and stay down!” commanded 
Captain Gray, setting the example by throwing 
himself to the ground. Tom knew what the 
others did not—that a rifle bullet had sped 
low over the spot occupied by the Overlanders. 

Then came a heavy scattering fire from two 
sides of the mountain meadow, and now they 
could plainly hear the bullets singing overhead. 

Frightened, Emma Dean sprang up to run 
to the cover of the trees and as she ran they 
saw her throw up her hands. 

“I’m hit! Oh, I’m shot!” she cried, and 
pitched forward in the deep meadow grass. 


212 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


CHAPTER XXI 

STACY SEEKS A CHANGE 

W HEN Stacy Brown awakened from the 
sleep into which his captors had put 
him, he was lying across the back 
of a horse. 

At first the fat boy didn’t know what had oc¬ 
curred ; then he recalled that there had been a 
struggle in his tent and that a hand on his 
throat had nearly choked him to death. A few 
seconds after that he lost consciousness. And 
now he was being carried away on horseback. 
“Let me up! Let me up!” he shouted. 

A prod from a heavy boot caused him to ut¬ 
ter a loud howl. 

‘ 1 Shut up! ” commanded the man behind him 
in the saddle on the same horse. 

“Le—let me up and I will. I’ll yell all the 
way if you don’t,” persisted Stacy. 

The boy’s hands were bound to his sides, and 
his ankles were tied together. 

For reasons of his own, the rider halted the 
horse and dismounted. He then released the 
boy’s ankles, and slightly loosened the leather 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 2ia 

thongs that hound his arms, bnt there he 
stopped. 

“Aren’t you going to untie me?” demanded 
Stacy. 

“Hold your tongue. You’ll he lucky if I 
don’t clout you over the head. You hang onto 
me now. If you try any tricks I’ll finish you 
with a bullet between the eyes.” 

“Oh, wow!” wailed the fat boy. “Where 
you going to take me?” 

“None of your business! Is it any of your 
business?” The fellow thrust the muzzle of a 
revolver into Stacy’s face. 

“N—n—n—no! It isn’t any of my busi¬ 
ness,” chattered the boy. He was thrown 
astride the horse; then his captor mounted in 
front of him, and Stacy clung to the fellow’s 
shirt with the tips of his fingers. 

It was an awful ride, Stacy slipping from 
side to side with each gallop of the mount, the 
perspiration streaming down his face from his 
efforts and the nervous strain. 

The ride continued for what seemed hours; 
then the horseman having halted uttered a 
sharp, short whistle, which, being answered, 
he rode ahead. Two men with rifles loomed 
out of the darkness and peered up at the riders. 

“Got him?” 

“Yes. Where’s the other one?” 


214 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“In the shack. We don’t want to pnt this 
one there. They mustn’t get close enough to¬ 
gether to talk. We’ll put him in the trough.” 

The trough! Stacy began having visions of 
a ducking in cold mountain water, which 
thought made him shiver. He was forcibly 
removed from the horse and made to walk, with 
a cold hand at the back of his neck. He was 
taken but a short distance from the horse, then, 
after his feet had been tied and the arm bonds 
tightened, Chunky was rolled into what, at 
home, would have been called a ditch. Here, 
it was a narrow channel that had been cut 
through the rocks by water. This was the 
“trough,” and Stacy was left alone there, 
while his captors walked away. 

It was not long after their departure that he 
heard excited voices. They were hurrying 
towards him. 

“Hey, you feller there!” 

“Well, what do you want?” growled the boy 
in the “trough.” 

“He’s all right. I hope the boys kotch the 
rest of ’em. Don’t make no difference whether 
it’s dead or alive so long as we’ve got two of 
’em.” 

Stacy pricked up his ears at this. He won¬ 
dered to whom they referred. 

“Come out of that!” ordered one of the men. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


215 


“I can’t fall up. Take me out if you want 
me.” 

Stacy was yanked from the “trough” with 
far from gentle hands, his bonds were removed, 
and he was permitted to walk, guarded by the 
men. Some little distance from the “trough” 
they rounded a rock and came upon a small 
campfire, near which sat two other men, and 
rough, hard-faced men they were. They eyed 
him with menacing eyes. Stacy did not like 
the looks of them. 

“Who be ye?” demanded one of the two by 
the fire. 

“Name’s Brown. Who are you?” 

“What you doing up in these woods?” 

“Riding for my health, but it’s the most un¬ 
healthy place I ever got into. ’ ’ 

“Know anything ’bout a diary that a fellow 
named Petersen—a hoss thief—got robbed of 
by one of your party?” 

“My party never robbed anybody,” objected 
Stacy indignantly. 

“Shut up! Answer me.” 

“How can I answer you and shut up at the 
same time?” 

The man addressed sprang up and struck 
the fat boy with the flat of his hand and Stacy 
toppled over. 

“You’re a coward! A miserable sneak—” 


216 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


Whack! A second slap laid the boy flat on 
the ground again. He got up, red of face and 
raging within. 

“If I had a gun you wouldn’t dare do that, 
you ruffian!” 

“Here’s a gun,” answered the bandit, 
thrusting a revolver towards the Overland boy. 

Stacy shrugged his shoulders, but did not 
take the weapon. 

“I—I don’t like to hurt anyone. I—I—I 
have an aversion to taking human life, and if 
I were to take that weapon I’m afraid I might 
forget myself and shoot someone,” stammered 
the fat boy. 

The bandits laughed. 

“Called your bluff, didn’t I?” sneered the 
fellow. 

“No. I said if I had a gun you wouldn’t dare 
do that. Not having a gun I suppose you can 
do as you like—this time.” 

“Sit down thar. I want you to write a let¬ 
ter to your folks back there and tell them that 
they got to leave the book that one of ’em stole 
from Petersen, and the bag of gold, too, under 
a stone on top of the rock behind the camp, and 
then git out.” 

“You mean that I can go then—after I have 
written the note?” questioned the boy with a 
hopeful note in his voice. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 217 

“I didn’t say nothing of the kind.” 

‘ ‘ Then I won’t write it! ’ ’ declared Stacy with 
emphasis. 

Another whack from the bandit’s ham-like 
paw sent the boy staggering. 

“Listen, young feller. This ain’t no joke. 
Whether or not you go back at all ain’t worry¬ 
ing me, but I’ll tell you this much. You write 
that letter and say in it that if your folks don’t 
do as you tell them to, we’re going to shoot you 
to-morrow. Mebby we’ll do it anyway, and 
that’s what’s coming to you if you don’t write. 
Will you write the letter?” 

4 ‘I’ll write it,” agreed the fat boy. “Give 
me something to write with. ’ ’ * Stacy labored 
over that letter, and his forehead and face 
were wet with perspiration while he was doing 
it. If he failed to convey the message, he be¬ 
lieved the bandits really would make way with 
him, and if the Overlanders did not obey the 
order of the bandits, he was positive the band¬ 
its would carry out their threat. For these 
reasons Stacy Brown took more care in com¬ 
posing that letter than he had ever done before 
in writing a letter. 

It was this message that, some time later, 
landed in the camp of the Overlanders on the 
flaming arrow, shot to them by a half-breed 
Indian. 


218 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“Read it,” commanded the bandit. 

Stacy did, whereupon the bandits with heads 
close together read it over laboriously, one 
holding the message close to the fire for better 
light. The one who appeared to be the leader 
handed it to a companion. 

“See that the i squaw-man’ pushes that 
through by the air road,” he ordered. “It’s 
got to go through in a hurry or somebody’ll 
suffer. Git! ’ ’ 

“Cap’n!” cried a voice, and a man dashed 
around the corner of the rock that protected 
the bandits. “He’s gone! He’s vamoosed. 
Don’t know how, but some varmint cut the 
ropes and let him out.” 

‘ 6 Gone! Go after him, men! What are you 
standing ’round here for? Get him, dead or 
alive! Nail that boy first! Never mind, I’ll 
do it. I’ll—!” The bandit paused suddenly 
and a blank look appeared on his face. “ Whe— 
whe—where is he?” 

Stacy Brown was not there. He had taken 
advantage of the interruption, and bounded 
away. 

“You need a change, Stacy Brown, and 
you’re going to have it, if your legs hold out,” 
growled the boy as he bounded away into the 
forest. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 219 


CHAPTER XXII 

A STRANGE VISITOR 

U T~^MMA’S hit!” wailed Nora, as the girls 
sprang up at Emma Dean’s cry and 
the tumble that they saw her take. 
“Get down!” commanded Tom Gray. 
“You’ll be hit.” 

Not one of the three girls gave heed to his 
warning. Elfreda, Grace and Nora ran to the 
spot at which they had seen Emma pitch for¬ 
ward. 

Elfreda was the first to reach her. Emma 
lay moaning, both hands pressed to her right 
qheek. 

“Where were you hit, dear?” questioned 
Miss Briggs with no trace of excitement in her 
voice. 

“In my cheek. I thi—think the bullet went 
clear through.” 

“If it had you wouldn’t be talking to me now. 
Take your hand away, please,” directed El¬ 
freda. 

, Emma would not do so, so Grace stretched 
forth a hand and forcibly removed Emma’s 


220 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


hand from her face. A red blotch on the cheek 
with a small white center were the only indica¬ 
tions that something really had hit the girl. 
Elfreda examined the spot, and a smile rippled 
over her face. 

“You poor child! No bullet even grazed 
you, but something did sting you,” announced 
Elfreda. “I think it is a bee sting. Did you 
feel stings anywhere else!” 

“Yes. On the other cheek, but not so bad 
there,’ ’ gasped Emma. ‘ ‘ That’s why I thought 
the bullet had gone through .’ 9 

“This is one instance in your life when you 
should have demonstrated,” declared Miss 
Briggs. “You see how easy it is to imagine 
things, and suffer because you imagine.” 

Emma sat up and smiled. 

The shooting was still going on from the 
borders of the meadow, though the firing was 
not so rapid as before, both sides apparently 
sparing their ammunition, but enough shots 
were being fired to make it most uncomfortable 
for the Overlanders who were directly in line 
of the firing between the two opposing forces. 

Tom joined the girls and led them to a safer 
place behind some huge boulders, where he 
sternly ordered them to remain until he gave 
them permission to change positions. Tom, 
rifle in hand, then crept out to a place where 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


221 


he could get a better view of what was going 
on. As he reached a point of vantage a double 
blast of fire overhead greeted him; then the fir¬ 
ing ceased altogether. 

It was then that the Overlander discovered 
a man creeping around the far end of the 
meadow. Then he saw another man creeping 
out from the opposite side of the field, and 
realized that the two men were stalking each 
other. 

‘ ‘ Keep low, girls! ’ ’ he called softly. ‘ ‘ Some¬ 
thing is coming off here if I’m not mistaken.” 

Instead of keeping low four heads quickly 
bobbed up from behind the boulders. At first 
the girls saw nothing unusual; then they dis¬ 
covered what Tom had just seen. They could 
see both men at intervals as the men’s heads 
came up. 

“Girls!” Grace snatched her field glasses 
and directed them at the creeping man on their 
side of the meadow. 

“Wha—what is it?” cried Nora. 

“The Peanut Man—it’s Jim Haley! There 
—see!” She passed her glasses to Elfreda 
who took a long look. 

“You are right, Grace. What does it mean?” 

“That we have friends here, J. Elfreda, but 
I fear something terrible is going to happen. 
Look! ’ 9 


222 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


The two men had seen each other as their 
heads were cautiously raised above the tall 
grass, and both exchanged shots with their 
revolvers at identically the same second. Then 
they both ducked back to the protection of the 
meadow grass. 

Jim Haley was on his feet a few seconds 
later. 

“Come out, you sneaking cur!” he shouted. 
“Stand up like a man!” 

The taunt was too much for Haley’s adver¬ 
sary. The fellow leaped to his feet, and, as 
he leaped, he fired. So did Haley. Neither 
scored, and, so far as the Overlanders could 
observe, not a human being except themselves 
saw the duel that was being fought out there 
in the meadow. Haley’s adversary ducked, 
and the Overlanders saw what his strategy was. 
A slight waving of the grass told them that the 
fellow was crawling to the left. They did not 
know whether or not Haley saw that. 

A moment or so later the man again sprang 
up and fired, but the Peanut Man had not been 
deceived. His revolver banged so quickly that 
the watchers could not tell which man fired first. 

“Good for Jim Haley!” cried Tom Gray. 

“Don’t!” admonished Grace. “Tom, don’t 
forget that this may end in a tragedy.” 

“That’s what it is going to end in—perhaps 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


223 


more than one tragedy. When Haley and the 
other fellow wind up you will see more lively 
work, and—” 

4 ‘Hippy! Oh, where is my Hippy?” cried 
Nora. 

“Don’t worry. He has gone to join some of 
the men who are backing Haley,” replied Tom. 

Neither Haley nor his opponent ducked 
after that and to the Overland girls, terrible as 
it was, it was a wonderful thing to see the two 
men standing up in the meadow shooting at 
each other as calmly as though they were firing 
at targets. 

Emma Dean’s face was pale, and her whole 
body was trembling with excitement. 

A little cry from one of the girls greeted a 
new move on the part of Haley’s antagonist. 
The fellow suddenly whipped out another 
revolver, and began shooting with both guns at 
the same time. 

Jim Haley demonstrated that he, too, could 
do that, and he did, and the bullets flew thick 
and fast. Then suddenly they saw Haley’s 
enemy spin half way around. 

“He’s hit!” cried Nora. 

The man was hit, and Haley held his fire. 
But the Peanut Man’s adversary came back 
with two more shots, both of which grazed 
Haley’s body. Then, like a flash, Jim Haley 


224 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


fired two shots at the same instant. His 
adversary turned slowly and then pitched side¬ 
ways to the ground. 

Haley himself went down almost as sud¬ 
denly, the difference being that Haley was not 
hurt, but he knew what to expect after his 
adversary had fallen seriously wounded. 

The crash of rifles was heard on the opposite 
side of the meadow, but there was no reply 
from the Overland side. 

‘‘Where are they? Oh, where are Hippy and 
the people he is with!” cried Nora. 

“I think they are on the other side of the 
meadow among the trees, creeping toward their 
enemies,” answered Grace Harlowe. “Two 
parties are shooting over on that side now.” 

“Yes,” answered Tom. “You have it right, 
Grace. The Peanut Man offered himself as 
a possible sacrifice to enable his companions to 
work around to the other side of the meadow 
and attack the enemy on their own ground.” 

“But where is Mr. Haley? Are you sure 
that he wasn’t hit?” begged Emma. 

“No. I could see by the way he went down 
that it was to avoid the volley that he knew 
would be fired at him,” Tom informed them. 
“Girls, I am in hopes that this morning’s work 
may mark the finish of the job that certain 
men have been sent up here to accomplish.” 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


225 


“I don’t understand,” said Elfreda, inter¬ 
ested at once. 

“You will later,” was Captain Gray’s non¬ 
committal answer. 

“Should we move from here, Tom!” ques¬ 
tioned Grace a little apprehensively. “The 
firing has stopped.” 

“No. We must wait here. That is the ar¬ 
rangement, no matter which way the fight goes. 
We must be on our guard, so get your rifles 
and sit down behind the boulders, while I keep 
watch here.” 

The Overland party obeyed, but not willingly* 
They had come out from their hiding place to 
watch the duel, and preferred not to miss 
further operations, but Tom was insistent. 

It was well past noon when a loud hello 
brought the girls to their feet. The call was 
uttered by Hippy. 

“I had an awful time getting here without 
crossing the meadow. I didn’t know what I 
might run into out there, so I came around 
through the forest, and it was mighty rough 
going. Got anything loose around here!” he 
demanded. 

“Saddle rations; that is all,” replied Grace. 
“Help yourself to whatever you can find.” 

“Oh, Hippy, have you seen anything of 
Hamilton!” begged Emma anxiously. 

15 - Grace Earlowe on Lost River 


226 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“Yes. Why?” 

“Is—is he all right?” 

“He was beating up Hawk Murray with his 
fists and doing it beautifully, the last I saw of 
him,” answered Hippy. “Never saw a fellow 
with a better punch than ‘ Hamilton, ’ as you 
call him, has.” 

“Hippy, what about the man out there in 
the meadow?” asked Miss Briggs. “I am go¬ 
ing out there. He may not be dead, and it is 
inhuman to leave him there to suffer, even if 
he is an enemy. Who is he? Do you know, 
Hippy?” 

“Yes. That fellow is Two-gun Murray, the 
slickest man with a revolver that ever hunched 
a shoulder, and you will please stay away from 
him . 9 9 

“Tom,” said Grace, laying a hand on her 
husband’s arm, “I wish someone would go out 
there. Perhaps it isn’t wise that any of us 
girls should do so, but we are not afraid, if you 
will permit. Please!” 

“Come along, Hippy. I guess it is up to us,” 
urged Captain Gray. 

Hippy protested that he must have food, but 
Nora promised that, if he would go out, she 
would have a nice meal ready for him when he 
returned, so the two men, with drawn revolvers, 
walked out cautiously to the spot where the 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


227 


mountain bandit bad fallen. He was not at 
the exact spot where he had fallen, hut they 
had no difficulty in following the trail which he 
had left. 

They found Two-gun alive, but unconscious, 
and a few moments later they were on their 
way back to camp, carrying the heavy burden. 
The Overland girls, knowing that the man was 
still alive because Tom and Hippy were carry¬ 
ing him so carefully, were ready with water, 
bandages and antiseptics, to give first aid. 

“ Where is he hit?” was Elfreda’s first ques¬ 
tion. 

4 ‘Both shoulders,” answered Tom briefly. 

Grace and Elfreda began working on the ban¬ 
dit immediately, and in half an hour he re¬ 
gained consciousness. The girls found that 
Two-gun was seriously wounded, both bullets 
having gone through him. They said that he 
should be taken to some place where surgical 
aid might be had, but Tom said that was im¬ 
possible. All that could be done had been done. 
Eurther, he said that men of his type were 
fairly well used to being shot up. No vital spot 
had been hit and both Tom and Hippy were of 
the opinion that Two-gun would live to spend 
at least a few years in prison. This bandit, 
however, probably had never before enjoyed 
the really tender treatment such as the girls 


228 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


were giving him. He followed Elfreda’s every 
movement with his eyes. 

“I—I didn’t tell on you—about the saddle 
and the hoss,” he said weakly. 

“I know it,” answered Miss Briggs. “That 
is one reason why I am trying to take good care 
of you. But you must be quiet and conserve 
your strength.” 

“Who was the fellow that got me?” de¬ 
manded Two-gun. 

“That I cannot tell you, Mr. Murray,” re¬ 
plied Elfreda. 

“He was some handy with the gun, I’ll say, 
Miss.” 

Elfreda moved away from Two-gun, and 
asked anxiously if any word had been had of 
Stacy. None had. She then suggested to Tom 
that the wounded bandit might be able to give 
them information that would lead to finding 
Stacy, so Tom asked Two-gun if he knew of 
Stacy’s whereabouts. The bandit shook his 
head. He said he knew that two members of 
the Overland party had been captured, but that 
he had not learned what had become of the 
prisoners. 

“There is one of them,” Captain Gray in¬ 
formed him, pointing to Hippy. “Were both 
men taken to the same place?” 

“They might have been,” was the reply, 


THE LOST EIVER TRAIL 


229 


and that was all that could be elicited from 
Two-gun Murray. 

There was nothing now to be done save to 
wait until the men, who had tricked the bandits 
and saved the Overlanders from probable seri¬ 
ous consequences, advised them what to do; 
so the party made themselves as comfortable 
as possible, sleeping part of the time and tak¬ 
ing turns at watching the camp and Two-gun 
Murray. 

At night their vigil was redoubled, for none 
knew how many of Two-gun’s companions 
were at large. They knew that some had been 
captured, as Hippy Wingate had told them 
so, and that Ham White had had a fist fight 
with Hawk Murray, the leader of the band of 
marauders that had terrified the entire Cas¬ 
cade Range. 

It was well after midnight when the camp 
was hailed. Tom answered the hail. 

“Come forward with your hands up and 
identify yourself,” he ordered. 

“Yeow!” howled a voice that brought every 
member of the Overland party to his feet. 

“Stacy!” shouted the Overlanders. 

“Wha—what!” exclaimed Tom Gray as 
an Indian loped into camp, a rifle in his hand, 
which he kept pointed in the direction of Cap¬ 
tain Gray. 


230 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


CHAPTER XXIII 




A THRILLING DISCOVERY 

“-m *"E Cat-foot Charlie. Me come!” 

“Yes. He’s the cat and I’m the 
foot,” answered another voice, and 
Stacy Brown strolled into camp with his chest 
thrown out. “I’ve been captured, sentenced 
to death, and, being the foot, I did some fast 
footwork, and here I am. Old chap Pussy here 
found me and brought me back. Oh, no, I 
wasn’t lost. I never know where I am, any¬ 
way. He showed me the way. Who—” 

“Our sweet dreams of peace are now at an 
end,” complained Emma. 

Stacy did not heed her words nor the con¬ 
gratulations of his companions who were hap¬ 
pier than words could express to have him with 
them again. The fat boy was interested in the 
man who lay by the fire. 

“Who’s that?” he demanded. 

‘ ‘ His name is Murray, ’ ’ answered Lieutenant 
Wingate. “He and Jim Haley fought a duel 
to-day, and Two-gun—that is the man’s name 
—got a bit the worst of it.” 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


231 


‘ ‘ Two-gun Murray! Hey, you! I ’m wise to 
you. You’re the fellow that stole my fish—the 
same person that I clouted over the head. You 
say he is wounded, Uncle Hip?” 

“Yes, seriously so.” 

“Think it would do much harm if I were to 
give him another wallop over the head—just 
for luck, you know?” 

“Stacy!” Tom Gray’s voice was stern. 
“Get away from that man and let him alone!” 

“Oh, all right, but I would like to give him 
just one clout. It’s coming to him.” 

Captain Gray took firm hold of the fat boy’s 
collar and projected him to some distance from 
the wounded man. 

“Cat-foot, have you word for me?” de¬ 
manded Tom. 

The Indian grunted and handed Tom a 
message. It was from Hamilton White, and 
the smile that lighted up the captain’s face as 
he read it, told the Overland Riders that it con¬ 
tained good news. 

“We are to move as soon as we can pack up,” 
announced Tom. “Cat-foot will accompany 
us. ’ ’ That was all Captain Gray would say. 

Emma, whose curiosity was proverbial, 
pouted and complained that every one of the 
party seemed to think it smart to make a 
mystery of everything. 


232 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


After offering the Indian food, which he re¬ 
fused and sat down by himself, the Overlanders 
quizzed Stacy about what had happened to him. 
Stacy told what he knew of his capture, and 
of the incidents that followed. In the course 
of the conversation it developed that Cat-foot 
Charlie had been sent to pick up the fat boy’s 
trail and follow it until he found him. Hamil¬ 
ton White had brought that about. 

Cat-foot had gone to the scene of Hippy’s 
imprisonment and from there soon found 
Stacy’s trail. This was made the easier because 
he had eavesdropped on two of the bandits and 
learned how Stacy got away. 

‘ ‘ Fat boy, him run like Indian chased by bad 
spirits,” announced the Indian when asked 
about the chase. 

Stacy, it developed, discovered that the 
Indian was chasing him, and from that moment 
on it was a race, the frightened Overlander 
making top speed to drop his pursuer. The 
race ended when Cat-foot finally overtook him, 
leaped on the boy’s back, and held him until he 
had explained what he wanted. Stacy’s cour¬ 
age thereupon returned. 

4 ‘Our fallen hero,” observed Emma when the 
tale was finished. 

“ Yes, but I didn’t get shot,” retorted Stacy. 

The Overlanders laughed heartily at Stacy’s 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


233 


retort, for it was a rap at Emma, though the 
boy did not know it. He laughed with them 
just the same. 

“Where are we going?” Nora wanted to 
know. 

“Northwest,’’ answered Tom briefly. “You 
will know all about it within twenty-four hours. 
The question is, what are we to do with our 
wounded man. We surely can’t leave him here. 
Cat-foot, do you know this fellow?” 

“Me know.” 

“■What do you think we had better do with 
him?” 

“Shoot um!” was the prompt reply of the 
Indian. 

“Pussy, you are a man of rare judgment,” 
complimented Stacy, grinning at the Indian. 

“It is what one would expect from one savage 
to another,” murmured Emma. 

“What did the Chief say about it?” de¬ 
manded Tom. “I mean Mr. White.” 

“Chief say me stay. Men come git Two- 
gun.” 

“Why do you call Hamilton the Chief?” 
wondered Emma. 

“How many of the bandits did they get?” 
questioned Tom, ignoring Emma’s inquiry. 

“Not know.” 

“Very well, I ynll turn Two-gun over to 


234 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


yon, but, Cat-foot, if you do one little thing to 
disturb that man you will have to answer to 
me. When he asks for a drink, give it to him 
and say nothing—say nothing at all to him at 
any time unless he wants something. You also 
will be held responsible for his not getting 
away, and after the men take him, unless you 
get different orders from the Chief, you will 
come to us at Three Mile Pass. That’s all, ex¬ 
cept that we will leave food for you and Two- 
gun.” 

At Tom’s direction all hands began packing, 
making ready for another night journey. 
Stacy complained bitterly, saying he hadn’t had 
a night’s sleep in so long that his eyelids hung 
down over his cheeks. 

“Where are we going, anyway?” he wanted 
to know. 

“Three-Mile Pass, you heard me say. Do 
you know where that is?” returned Captain 
Gray. 

“No. Do you?” 

Tom said he had a fair idea of its location. 
Though tired and somewhat nervous, the Over¬ 
land girls prepared for the journey with their 
usual cheerfulness, and were under way in an 
hour. Tom selected an unsuspected pass as the 
route from the meadow, and the riders were 
soon swallowed up in its deep gloom. It seemed 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


235 


as though night had poured the blackest of her 
coloring into this pass, but the trail was fairly 
smooth and one could not stray from it without 
bumping into the rocks. 

No halt was made until daylight. Then the 
party stopped for breakfast, and, while there, 
horses were heard approaching. The girls were 
startled, and looked to Tom for orders, but 
Captain Gray merely smiled. 

“Don’t worry; only some guests for break¬ 
fast,” he said. 

“It’s Hamilton!” cried Emma Dean, as two 
horsemen rode into sight. 

“And the Peanut Man,” added Nora joy¬ 
ously. 

“Put over a fresh pot of coffee,” suggested 
Grace. i i They look tired, and goodness knows 
one, at least, has a right to be tired.” 

“Peanuts, peanuts, ladies and gentlemen!” 
called Jim Haley. ‘ ‘ The International product 
has reached to the utmost limits of the Cas¬ 
cades already, and will soon be over the border. 
Howdy, folks!” 

It was a real welcome that the Overlanders 
gave the two men. Elfreda and Grace were 
studying the face of Haley, with the same 
thought in the mind of each. Could this care¬ 
free, temperamental Haley be the Haley that 
they had seen facing the bandit gunman calmly, 


236 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


never flinching under the bandit’s fire, and in 
the end downing his man? It did not seem pos¬ 
sible. 

“How did yon make ont with yonr patient?” 
he asked, his face suddenly assuming a grave 
expression as he shook hands with Miss Briggs. 

“His wounds were serious, but, if he is not 
neglected, I think he will pull through.” 

“He will not be neglected where he is going,” 
was the significant reply. “The officers have 
taken him away from your last camp by now, 
so don’t worry. After a snack we will have a 
talk all around.” 

The breakfast from then on was a happy 
reunion, and even Elfreda Briggs forgot to 
be distant towards Hamilton White. Emma 
managed to sit beside him, her face wearing 
a most devoted look. 

When the dishes had been put away, the 
party settled down to talk over their experi¬ 
ences, and after a little Tom Gray cleared his 
throat and announced that he had something 
to say. 

“You Overlanders have accused some of us 
of all the time making a mystery of everything. 
While clearing myself, there are others present 
whom I wish to clear of any suspicion of doing 
other than their duty. 

“Here are the facts: When I came up here 


THE LOST BIVER TRAIL 


237 


with my wife and her party, I was supposed 
to come as a forester, hut as a matter of fact 
I came on quite another mission. For a long 
time tourists and others have been preyed upon 
by mountain bandits, the Guerrillas of the Cas¬ 
cades, as some call them. As a forester here 
for a survey it was thought that I might get 
a line, so to speak, on the gang and its lair 
without them suspecting me. I did that to a 
certain extent. Then, too, there was a famous 
government forester who came to Washington 
State on the same mission. He thought he 
could best look over the ground by joining out 
with a party of tourists, and he was unfortunate 
enough to fall in with the Overland Riders. 
That man knew these forests and mountains, 
and, after finishing this particular mission, 
he is to be the chief of the foresters, which, in 
fact, he is already.’’ 

“Hamilton White!” cried Nora. 

Tom Gray nodded. 

“And he has done his work well. In addition 
to that he has been a wonderful guide and a 
delightful companion to you folks.” 

“Even if he did deceive us,” said Elfreda. 

“Not all of us,” spoke up Grace, who then told 
of the wigwagging incident when she learned 
that he was the chief of the foresters through 
doing some sgnaling on her own account. 


238 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


Ham White laughed heartily. 

“I suspected something of the sort,” he 
added with a chuckle. 

“To continue my story,” resumed Captain 
Gray, “another man came to us sailing under 
false colors, if you wish to call it that. This 
man proposed that the Overlanders be used 
as a decoy to lure the bandits on, knowing that 
the ruffians believed one of our party possessed 
the key to Sam Petersen’s gold find. Ham 
White objected to subjecting us to peril, but 
when the newcomer showed him orders from 
the Washington authorities directing White 
to cooperate fully with him and carry out his 
orders, White was obliged to obey.” 

The eyes of the Overland Eiders turned to¬ 
ward Jim Haley, who actually grew rosy under 
their accusing gaze. 

“Don’t look at me that way. I confess, but 
you shall have your peanuts just the same,” 
he promised laughingly. 

‘ 6 Folks, know Jim Haley, chief of the special 
agents,” introduced Tom. “Between White 
and Haley the entire band of guerrillas, with 
one exception, has been rounded up. Some are 
on their way to stand trial, others are being 
conveyed to a hospital to be treated for their 
wounds, and two are dead. They have spied 
on this party, watched their every move ever 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


239 


since they came into the Washington forests, 
and especially so since Sam Petersen died 
from a gunshot wound inflicted by one of the 
Murrays. ’’ 

“How perfectly thrilling!” breathed Emma 
Dean. 

4 4 The big round-up came yesterday when the 
bandits were preparing to make a mass attack 
on our camp, but Haley outwitted them. They 
did not know that a body of forest rangers and 
sheriff’s deputies were secreted on your side of 
the meadow, ready not only to defend you, but 
to capture the ruffians who were about to try 
to take you and force information from you. 
It was Haley who, as you know, went out to 
meet Two-gun Murray, and beat him in a stand- 
up gun duel, ’ ’ said Tom. 

“Captain! Please talk about the weather,” 
begged Haley amid laughter. 

“They didn’t find out about the gold mine 
after all, did they!” chuckled Hippy. “Say, 
Haley, I know you, you old rascal! You’re the 
fellow with a cold who rescued me from the 
bandits,” he accused, and Haley agreed with 
a nod. 

“Speaking of gold, Hippy Wingate,” spoke 
up Elfreda Briggs, “I think I am entitled to 
an explanation. How did you chance to have 
my bag of gold in your possession!” 


240 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“Ham White gave it to me, and told me to 
hang onto it—that it wasn’t safe for you to 
carry it around. ’ ’ 

“Indeed!” 

“I took it from the bunk where Petersen lay, 
before you came in the shack that day. I 
expected that the gang would return, so I 
scraped up some pebbles and substituted them 
for the gold, replacing the canvas bag where 
I found it,” explained Ham White. 

“Was it you who exchanged shots with Two- 
gun Murray that day?” she> asked. 

Ham nodded, and Elfreda bent an accusing 
glance on Stacy Brown. 

“Well, I saved you from that ruffian, didn’t 
I?” protested the fat boy. 

“Yes, Stacy, and I forgive you for trying to 
make me think you had suffered the bandit to 
shoot at you while you lay behind a bush,” 
smiled Elfreda. 

“Not if my legs were in good working order. 
I wouldn’t lie behind any bush or anything else 
and let a sure-thing gunman blaze away at 
me,” declared Stacy Brown with an earnestness 
that raised a merry peal of laughter. 

“Time to break camp,” announced Tom 
Gray. “We can chatter after we have made a 
new camp, which will not be many miles from 
here.” 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


241 


“Where are we bound for?” asked Hippy. 

“Three Mile Pass.” Captain Gray’s face 
wore a broad smile, and Grace, knowing him 
so well, regarded him suspiciously. 

“Tom has something up his sleeve,” Grace 
confided in Elfreda. 

“They all have,” observed Miss Briggs. 
“These honest men who have opened their 
hearts to us have not yet opened the aforesaid 
hearts far enough.” 

“Boots and saddles!” cried Hippy, and the 
Overland Riders with their guests took to their 
mounts. It was a happy ride that morning; the 
air was cool, birds were twittering, and Hippy 
was trying to sing, his efforts in that direction 
raising a perfect storm of protest. 

No stop was made, except now and then to 
water the horses, until nearly noon. Then they 
halted, apparently for no cause at all, the visi¬ 
tors and Tom Gray fussing with saddle girths, 
all the time regarded narrowly by Grace and 
Elfreda. 

At last they started on through a rapidly 
broadening pass, following the dry course of a 
mountain stream. The sunlight flooded the 
pass as their trail bore more to the right, and 
at the turn Tom Gray held up his hand, a signal 
to halt. 

‘ ‘ Oh, look at the Old Lady of the Mountain! ’ > 

16 - Or ace Earlowe on Lost River 


242 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


yelled Stacy. “Yes, she’s got a kid on either 
side of her. Ha, ha, ha!” he laughed. 

“Elfreda!” Grace gripped the arm of her 
companion. “ ‘Lost River—Grandma and the 
Children—Three Peaks dead east.’ Look! 
There are the peaks. The sun is at the merid¬ 
ian. Oh, Elfreda!” 

“And look—the yellow sands of Lost River. 
Oh, Grace! If it should be only a dream I’d 
faint, after all I have been through to get 
here. See! The old lady’s face is black as ink, 
just as that poor, unhappy old prospector said 
it was.” 

“Children, do you know where you are!” 
called Captain Gray, none of the party having 
heard the exclamations of Grace and Elfreda. 

“Yes, Tom Gray. I am sitting on my gold 
mine,” answered Miss Briggs, trying to control 
her voice and keep her elation out of it. 

“Why, Elfreda! I thought you did not want 
a gold mine—that you wished to hear nothing 
more about the hateful subject,” chided Grace. 

“I think I—I have the fever, and—” con¬ 
fessed Elfreda. 

“You are in fact sitting on your gold mine. 
When I learned that Lost River was at the 
feet of Grandma and the Children, with Three 
Peaks dead east, I recognized the description 
instantly, for I had been here, and was im- 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


243 


pressed with the odd formations to be seen 
here, ’’ said Captain Gray. ‘ ‘ You will recall the 
words of the old prospector in the diary and on 
the sheet on which yon wrote down what he told 
you. I was here trying to locate the head¬ 
quarters of the Murrays, and, for your infor¬ 
mation, we are less than half a mile from the 
lair of the Guerrillas of the Cascades—the Mur¬ 
rays. Such is the irony of fate,” added Tom. 

“Gold! Hooray!” yelled Stacy, tossing his 
hat into the air. “I hope it doesn’t turn out to 
be iron.” 

“Please don’t get excited,” admonished 
Grace. “We are not certain that there is any 
gold here.” 

“Any gold here?” answered Tom. “Ham, 
tell them what you know.” 

“Mrs. Gray, when I left you so mysteri¬ 
ously I came up here at Captain Gray’s direc¬ 
tion to make a thorough survey—to find out, if 
possible, if Petersen’s was an idle dream or 
the real thing. It was real! I have already 
panned enough of the sand of Lost River 
through my fingers to make a fair meal ticket 
for this party. It is true that we have not found 
the real vein, but we know it cannot be far from 
here, and we are going to search for it.” 

1 * Say! Whose gold mine is this I ’ ’ demanded 
Lieutenant Hippy Wingate. 


244 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“Whose? Why, Miss Briggs’, of course,” 
answered Ham White. “I have sent a trusty 
ranger to Seattle to file her claim, which we 
have staked out broadly, and we are in hopes 
that it may take in the mother lode. In any 
event, we are on the ground, and we will 
broaden our claim so that you may be protected. 
Am I forgiven for all the deception I have 
practiced on you and Miss Briggs and the 
others?” asked White, addressing Grace. 

“It is for us to ask your pardon, Mr. WRite, 
for suspecting that you were not what you 
seemed, or so it seemed to us at one time.” 

Stacy had leaped from his horse and was 
digging feverishly in the sands of Lost River. 

“I got one! Whoopee!” he howled, holding 
up a “nugget” nearly as big as an egg. 

Hippy snatched the “nugget” from him and 
turned it over in his hand, then broke into up¬ 
roarious laughter. 

“Why, you simp! That’s not a nugget, it is 
merely a piece of quartz. Dig some more, 
Chunky.” 

“I suggest that we do not lose our heads, 
and that we make camp and behave,” cried 
Grace. 

The Overlanders agreed, and in the happi¬ 
est frame of mind they dismounted and pitched 
their camp, after which they walked over the 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


245 


claim with Tom, Mr. "White and Haley as 
guides. On the way up the channel of the dry 
stream Nora picked up three small nuggets of 
real gold. 

“The luck of the Irish, me darlin’,” cried 
Nora, playfully patting Hippy on the cheek. 

“I wish it understood,” announced Elfreda 
after their return to camp, “that this is not 
Elfreda Briggs’ claim, but the Overland 
Riders’ claim.” 

“Too late,” answered Tom. “Your claim 
will be filed before you or anyone else can stop 
it.” 

“I will see about that,” murmured Elfreda. 

That evening, by the campfire, the members 
of the party discussed their good fortune, and 
made plans for the future. 

Busy days followed, some of the party pan¬ 
ning the sands of Lost River for gold, and 
finding enough to arouse them to a high pitch 
of excitement. There was no thought of con¬ 
tinuing the journey, for there was work to be 
done where they were. A mining expert had 
been sent for, and his investigations were still 
in progress five weeks later when Grace asked 
Tom to take her home. 

Jim Haley had not remained long with them, 
for he, too, had work to do in connection with 
evidence against the captured bandits. 


246 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


The others of the party decided that they 
would return with Grace, hut Ham White, at 
Miss Briggs’ request, together with three for¬ 
mer forest rangers, remained on the claim to 
guard and work it, and assist in locating, if pos¬ 
sible, the rich vein that all believed could not be 
far away. 

“ You are all coming to see us next winter at 
Haven Home,” reminded Grace on the morn¬ 
ing of their departure for Cresco, where they 
were to board a train for the east—and Home! 
“It probably will be along about Christmas 
time, that being the most joyous season for old 
friends to get together, and we will have a 
Christmas tree and everything,” she added, 
laughing. 

Good byes were said and the Overland Riders 
retraced their trail, the last journey that, as a 
body, they probably ever would take. A week 
later found them at their homes. Each had 
his own life to lead now, for the years were 
drawing on, and the Overlanders were no 
longer children. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 247 


CHAPTER XXIV 

THE HOUSE OF HAPPINESS 

H AVEN HOME was brilliantly lighted, 
for it was Christmas eve, and Grace 
had made good her promise to ask 
the Overland Riders to spend the holiday week 
with her and Tom. 

Haven Home was a house of happiness on 
that wonderful Christmas eve, for, up in the 
nursery, lay a little pink and white bundle of 
humanity over which the Overlanders bent— 
that is, the girls did—and worshiped at the 
shrine of Grace Harlowe’s own little daughter, 
now less than four weeks old. For that bit of 
humanity the whole party had come laden with 
gifts, not forgetting many beautiful things for 
Yvonne, Grace’s adopted daughter—the child 
that Grace had rescued from the cellar of a 
deserted village amid the crashing of explod¬ 
ing German shells in the great world war—now 
a beautiful young woman. 

Hamilton White was there, big, brown and 
manly, a figure that attracted attention where- 
ever he went; Jim Haley was there, too, with 


248 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


a load of peanuts that required a wagon to 
carry them from the express office. 

Elfreda had brought her adopted daughter, 
now home from a finishing school, and a dif¬ 
ferent child she was from the daughter of the 
Mad Hermit that the Overlanders had taken to 
their hearts some years before. 

But where was Stacy Brown? No one could 
answer the question. Stacy had not even re¬ 
plied to the invitation to join the Christmas 
party, and there was disappointment, for no 
reunion of the Overlanders could be complete 
without the fat boy. 

Emma Bean was monopolizing “Hamilton’’ 
most of the time, and Nora confided to Grace 
that she actually believed it was going to be a 
“match,” but Grace shook her head and smiled. 

And then Stacy arrived! 

The fat boy made his usual dramatic en¬ 
trance at a moment when he knew attention 
would be centered on him. It was. 

Stacy was in full evening dress, carrying an 
opera hat, which he crushed and popped open 
with one hand as he shook hands and bowed 
with a grace that was unsuspected by his com¬ 
panions. 

“Did you stop at the hotel to get into those 
glad rags?” demanded Hippy. 

“We wondered why you were so late,” said 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


249 


Grace. “It never occurred to us that you would 
stop to dress before coming up to the house. 
Why, if you felt that you must dress, did you 
not come here? Your room has been ready for 
several days.” 

“Dress? Who said I stopped to dress? I 
dressed this morning before leaving home.” 

“Stacy!” cried Nora in a horrified tone. 

“Well?” 

“You don’t mean that you wore your eve¬ 
ning clothes all day on the train?” demanded 
Nora. 

“Sure I did. I didn’t want to put them in 
my suit case and wrinkle them all up, so I wore 
them. Anything wrong about that?” 

There was silence for a few seconds, then 
the Overlanders broke out in peals of laughter. 

“Say, I want to see the kid. He won’t laugh 
at me, I’ll bet,” said Stacy. 

“Wrong gender, young man,” observed 
Hippy. 

“Of course you shall see him,” cried Grace, 
linking her arm in Stacy’s and leading him 
upstairs, with the entire Overland party follow¬ 
ing. 

Two little blue eyes looked up at him as 
Stacy gazed, and popped his crush hat at the 
bundle of pink and white until the nurse took 
it away from him indignantly. 


250 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


“The perfect picture of Grace, isn’t she?” 
bubbled Emma. 

‘‘ Oh, I don’t know. Cute little monkey, isn’t 
she?” 

“Young man, you come downstairs,” ordered 
Hippy, collaring Stacy and leading him away, 
while the Overlanders followed laughing. The 
merriment had begun with the arrival of Stacy. 

Dinner was announced as they reached the 
drawing room, and it was a dinner that Stacy 
Brown did full justice to. It did the Over¬ 
landers’ hearts good to see him eat. 

‘ ‘ How you ever managed to develop such an 
appetite, short of starvation, is a thing that I 
have many times wondered at,” teased Tom. 

“Develop it! I didn’t. It’s a gift,” was the 
fat boy’s quick response. “I was born with it, 
and I don’t know why you folks are always 
making fun of me,” he retorted, appearing to 
be very much hurt. 

‘ ‘ That is because you are always making fun 
of yourself,” reminded Emma. 

“Not when you are about,” mumbled Stacy. 

And so the merriment went on. 

At the close of the dinner Hamilton White 
made his mine report. The mother lode of 
“Lost Mine” had just recently been tapped 
when work was suspended for the winter, to be 
resumed in the early spring, he said. The min- 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


251 


ing engineer in charge of the work was author¬ 
ity for the statement that it would undoubtedly 
pan out a big fortune. White said he had the 
expert’s detailed report which they could look 
over at their leisure. 

“So J. Elfreda is a rich woman, eh?” said 
Stacy, regarding her solemnly. 

“Yes, rich in the sense that I have such 
friends as these,” answered Elfreda, her eyes 
moist as she glanced at the eager, flushed faces 
about her. “Gold is not riches—friendship is. 
As for the riches of the 4 Lost Mine’ I have with 
me a transfer of title to the property, signed, 
sealed and delivered, providing as follows: 

* 4 One eighth to the new baby. 

“One eighth to my adopted daughter 4 Little 
Silver . 9 

4 4 One eighth to Yvonne. 

4 4 One eighth each to Grace, Nora and Emma. 

4 4 And—” Elfreda paused, and in a subdued 
voice added, 4 4 one eighth each for myself and 
for my husband to be.” A flush slowly grew 
into her cheeks as J. Elfreda Briggs bent her 
eyes on the paper from which she was reading. 

44 Your—your what?” stammered Nora, as 
all eyes were fixed on Miss Briggs 9 face. 

44 My husband to be!” Elfreda raised her 
eyes, eyes full of happiness, to her friends. 
“I am to wed Mr. White in the early spring. 


252 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


You, my beloved friends, are the first to be told. 
Why should you not be first?” 

“Oh, Hamilton, isn’t that perfectly wonder¬ 
ful!” cried Emma. 

Emma had broken the ice, the dead silence 
that, for a few seconds, had followed Elfreda 
Briggs’ announcement, and then the exclama¬ 
tions and the congratulations fairly over¬ 
whelmed Elfreda and Hamilton White. 

Everything else was forgotten. 

“Well, old chappie, what have you got to say 
for yourselfV’ demanded Hippy Wingate, 
frowning on “Ham” WRite. 

“Only that I am the most fortunate of men,” 
answered Hamilton WRite gravely. 

“Never mind, Emma,” spoke up Grace smil¬ 
ingly as she looked into the flushed face of 
Emma Dean. “I have named the baby—I just 
now named her, and her name is Emma Grace 
Harlowe Gray.” 

“Oh, the poor kid,” wailed Stacy. “To go 
through life with a name like that! My heart 
of hearts bleeds for her.” 

“For he’s a jolly good fellow,” struck up 
Tom Gray, whereupon Grace ran to her piano 
and joined with the accompaniment, and the 
old house resounded to the rollicking song until 
the nurse came down, her face wearing a deep 
frown. 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


253 


“Please, please!” she begged. “You have 
awakened the baby.” 

The song stopped. 

“Well, we are all set now except for Stacy 
Brown and Emma Dean. They are our hope¬ 
less bachelors,” declared Hippy. 

“Bachelors! I guess not,” retorted Stacy. 
“Emma and I have decided to tie up, too.” 

The Overlanders shouted. They thought it 
was one of Stacy’s jokes. 

Then the Overlanders began to realize that 
Stacy was not joking. 

“But how do you two expect to get along— 
you are fighting all the time!” wondered Nora. 

‘ ‘ The difference between us and some others 
is that we will have done all our fighting before 
we were married. Am I right, Emma ! ’ 9 

“Yes, Stacy dear,” replied Emma, blushing 
furiously. 

“When did all this take place!” asked Grace. 

“Oh, we got engaged by the correspondence- 
school plan,” Stacy informed her. 

“The idea! Children like you two getting 
married,” objected Nora. 

“Children! Huh! Pm twenty-three, and 
Emma—” Stacy shrugged his shoulders. 
“Well, let her speak for herself. Anything 
else—anyone got any questions to ask!” 

“Yes,” spoke up Elfreda. “If I may do so 


254 


GRACE HARLOWE ON 


without offense, I should like to know what you 
propose to do after you marry Emma?” 

“Nothing!” with rising inflection in his 
voice. “I have money, my little wife will have 
more, and we two will live a life of distin¬ 
guished and elegant leisure.” 

“You poor turtle doves,” chortled Hippy 
Wingate. 

The merry moments that followed failed to 
soothe the wakeful baby upstairs. After the ex¬ 
citement over the startling announcements had 
abated, Grace proposed that they dress the 
Christmas tree, and, following that, they 
danced for an hour, and the wonderful evening 
came to a close—for all except Stacy and 
Emma. The two strolled out on the snow- 
covered lawn of Haven Home, hand in hand, 
with the moon beaming down upon them, and 
a million diamonds sparkling at their feet. 

‘ 6 Stacy dear, do you remember that night up 
in the North Woods when the Overlanders were 
preparing to leave for home? Do you remem¬ 
ber what Hippy asked me as a snowbird chirped 
high up in a great tree, just as one is now 
chirping in that apple tree yonder?” asked 
Emma. 

“I remember,” nodded Stacy. 

“Hippy asked me, 4 Emma, what is the little 
bird saying to-night V I answered, ‘He is 


THE LOST RIVER TRAIL 


255 


wishing ns all a merry, merry Christmas and 
a glad, happy new year.’ That is what the 
snowbird is saying to us from the old apple 
tree to-night, isn’t he, Stacy dear?” 

‘ ‘ You bet, kid. Wise guys, those snowbirds , 9 9 
he observed as they turned and strolled hack 
towards the house. “We are going to be 
happy, aren’t we, Emma?” 

“Going to he? Why, we are happy now, 
dear. Say good-night to me out here,” she 
whispered as they reached the veranda. 

Stacy did so. He said good-night several 
times before they went indoors. Emma Dean’s 
eyes were bright and her cheeks wore a rosy 
glow when she faced her companions in the 
drawing room a moment later. 

The Overland Riders smiled. They under¬ 
stood. 


THE END 



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knows undersea boats, and the reader who voyages with him 
may look forward to an instructive as well as lively cruise. 



1. THE SUBMARINE BOYS ON DUTY; or. Life on a Diving Torpedo 

Boat. 

2 . THE SUBMARINE BOYS’ TRIAL TRIP; or, “Making Good” as 

Young Experts. 

3. THE SUBMARINE BOYS AND THE MIDDIES; or, The Prize De¬ 

tail at Annapolis. 

4. THE SUBMARINE BOYS AND THE SPIES; or, Dodging the 

Sharks of the Deep. 

5. THE SUBMARINE BOYS’ LIGHTNING CRUISE; or, The Young 

Kings of the Deep. 

6. THE SUBMARINE BOYS FOR THE FLAG; or, Deeding Their Lives 

to Uncle Sam. 

7. THE SUBMARINE BOYS AND THE SMUGGLERS; or, Breaking 

Up the New Jersey Customs Frauds. 

S. THE SUBMARINE BOYS’ SECRET MISSION; or, Beating an Am¬ 
bassador’s Game. 

















THE PONY RIDER BOYS SERIES 

By FRANK GEE PATCHIN 


PRICE, $1.00 EACH 


PONY-RIDER-BOYS 
IN-THE-ROCKIES 


This unusual and popular series tells 
vividly the story of four adventure-lov¬ 
ing lads, who, with their guardian, spent 
their summer vacations in the saddle in 
search of recreation and healthful 
adventure, though for a time it seemed to 
them that nature and man had conspired 
to defeat them at every turn. Tong 
journeys over mountain, through the 
fastness of primitive forest and across 
burning desert, lead them into the wild 
places of their native land as well as 
into many strange and exciting experi¬ 
ences. There is not a dull moment in the series for the Pony 
Rider Boys nor for those who read of their summer wander¬ 
ings. 

1. THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN THE ROCKIES; or. The Secret of 

the Lost Claim. 

2. THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN TEXAS; or, The Veiled Riddle of the 

Plains. 



3. THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN MONTANA; or, The Mystery of the 

Old Custer Trail. 

4. THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN THE OZARKS; or, The Secret of 

Ruby Mountain. 

5. THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN THE ALKALI; or, Finding a Key to 

the Desert Maze. 

6. THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN NEW MEXICO; or, The End of the 

Silver Trail. 

7. THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN THE GRAND CANYON; or. The 

Mystery of Bright Angel *Gulch. 

8. THE PONY RIDER BOYS WITH THE TEXAS RANGERS; or, On 

the Trail of the Border Bandits. 













THE RANGE AND GRANGE HUSTLERS 

SERIES 

By FRANK GEE PATCHIN 

PRICE, $1.00 EACH 

“Farming? Pooh!” This, today, is the atti¬ 
tude of the average American young man. Yet 
the most solid and enduring wealth comes out of 
the soil. The old farming conditions are passing. 
The ranch or great farm of today is really a 
gigantic business undertaking, employing multi¬ 
tudes, and those of the employees who rise and 
lead these multitudes find the best of incomes 
awaiting them. Ranch and farm today distinctly 
bid for brains, not mere muscle. Do you know, 
for instance, that from $10,000 to $12,000 a year 
is very common pay for the foremen of the great 
wheat ranches in Kansas? Have you any idea of 
the excitements, the glories of this life on great 
ranches in the West? Any bright boy will “de¬ 
vour” the books of this series, once he has made 
a start with the first volume. 

1. THE RANGE AND GRANGE HUSTLERS ON THE RANCH; or. 

The Boy Shepherds of the Great Divide. 

2. THE RANGE AND GRANGE HUSTLERS’ GREATEST ROUND¬ 

UP; or, Pitting Their Wits Against a Packers’ Combine. 

3. THE RANGE AND GRANGE HUSTLERS ON THE PLAINS; or, 

Following the Steam Plows Across the Prairie. 

4. THE RANGE AND GRANGE HUSTLERS AT CHICAGO; or, The 

Conspiracy of the Wheat Pit. 

THE BOYS OF STEEL SERIES 

By JAMES R. MEARS 

PRICE, $1.00 EACH 

In this splendid series the great American steel industry is exploited by 
a master pen. The author put in much time studying conditions at the 
iron mines, on the transportation routes and at the big steel mills. He has 
made of these volumes a series of romances with scenes laid in the iron and 
steel world. Each book presents a vivid picture of some phase of this 
great industrjo The information given is exact and truthful; above all, 
each story is full of adventure and fascination. The steel industry today 
offers a splendid field for the efforts of really bright American youths. 
There are great possibilities of careers in this line of work; the brightest 
who enter may in time win some of the highest incomes paid in this coun¬ 
try. And the work is full of fascination throughout. 

1. THE IRON BOYS IN THE MINES; or, Starting at the Bottom of 

the Shaft. 

2. THE IRON BOYS AS FOREMEN; or, Heading the Diamond Drill 

Shift. 

3. THE IRON BOYS ON THE ORE BOATS; or, Roughing It on the 

Great Lakes. 

4. THE IRON BOYS IN THE STEEL MILLS; or, Beginning Anew in 

the Cinder Pits. 


RANGE 
AND GRANGE 
HUSTLERS ON 
THE RANCH 

F5MJTR G PATGHM 












THE CIRCUS BOYS SERIES 

By EDGAR B. P. DARLINGTON 

PRICE, $1.00 EACH 

No call to the heart of the youth of 
America finds a readier response than the 
call of the billowing canvas, the big red 
wagons, the crash of the circus band and 
the trill of the ringmaster’s whistle. It 
is a call that captures the imagination of 
old and young alike, and so do the books 
of this series capture and enthrall the 
reader, for they were written by one who, 
besides wielding a master pen, has fol¬ 
lowed the sawdust trail from coast to 
coast, who knows the circus people and 
the sturdy manliness of those who do 
and dare for the entertainment of mil¬ 
lions of circus-goers when the grass is 
green. Mr. Darlington paints a true picture of the circus life. 

1. THE CIRCUS BOYS ON THE FLYING RINGS; or, Making the 

Start in the Sawdust Life. 

2. THE CIRCUS BOYS ACROSS THE CONTINENT; or. Winning 

New Laurels on the Tanbark. 

3. THE CIRCUS BOYS IN DIXIE LAND; or. Winning the Plaudits of 

the Sunny South. 

4. THE CIRCUS BOYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI; or. Afloat with the 

Big Show on the Big River. 

5. THE CIRCUS BOYS ON THE PLAINS; or, The Young Advance 

Agents Ahead of the Show. 

BOOKS FOR GIRLS 

THE MADGE MORTON SERIES 

By AMY D. V. CHALMERS 

PRICE, $1.00 EACH 

The heroines of these stories are four girls, who with en¬ 
thusiasm for outdoor life, transformed a dilapidated canal 
boat into a pretty floating summer home. They christened 
the craft “The Merry Maid” and launched it on the shore of 
Chesapeake Bay. The stories are full of fun and adventure, 
with not a dull moment anywhere. 

1. MADGE MORTON—CAPTAIN OF THE MERRY MAID. 

2. MADGE MORTON’S SECRET. 

3. MADGE MORTON’S TRUST. 

4. MADGE MORTON’S VICTORY. 












THE MEADOW-BROOK GIRLS SERIES 

By JANET ALDRIDGE 

PRICE, $1.00 EACH 

Four clever girls go hiking around 
the country and meet with many thril¬ 
ling and provoking adventures. These 
stories pulsate with the atmosphere of 
outdoor life. 

1. THE MEADOW-BROOK GIRLS UNDER 
CANVAS; or. Fun and Frolic in the Sum¬ 
mer Camp. 

2. THE MEADOW-BROOK GIRLS ACROSS 
COUNTRY; or, The Young Pathfinders 
on a Summer Hike. 

3. THE MEADOW-BROOK GIRLS AFLOAT; 
or, The Stormy Cruise of the Red Rover. 

4. THE MEADOW-BROOK GIRLS IN THE HILLS; or, The Missing 

Pilot of the White Mountains. 

5. THE MEADOW-BROOK GIRLS BY THE SEA; or. The Loss of the 

Lonesome Bar. 

6. THE MEADOW-BROOK GIRLS ON THE TENNIS COURTS; or. 

Winning Out in the Big Tournament. 

THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS SERIES 

By LAURA DENT CRANE 

PRICE, $1.00 EACH 

Girls as well as boys love wholesome adventure, a wealth 
of which is found in many forms and in many scenes in the 
volumes of this series. 

1. THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS AT NEWPORT; or, Watching the Sum¬ 

mer Parade. 

2. THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS IN THE BERKSHIRES; or. The 

Ghost of Lost Man’s Trail. 

3. THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS ALONG THE HUDSON; or, Fighting 

Fire in Sleepy Hollow. 

4. THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS AT CHICAGO; or, Winning Out 

Against Heavy Odds. 

5. THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS AT PALM BEACH; or, Proving Their 

Mettle Under Southern Skies. 

6. THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS AT WASHINGTON; or. Checkmating 

the Plots of Foreign Spies. 












THE HIGH SCHOOL GIRLS SERIES 

By JESSIE GRAHAM FLOWER, A. M. 

PRICE, $1.00 EACH 


The scenes, episodes, and adventures 
through which Grace Harlowe and her 
intimate chums pass in the course of 
these stories are pictured with a vivacity 
that at once takes the young feminine 
captive. 

1. GRACE HARLOWE’S PLEBE YEAR AT 

HIGH SCHOOL; or, The Merry Doings of , 
the Oakdale Freshmen Girls. 

2. GRACE HARLOWE’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 

AT HIGH SCHOOL; or. The Record of the 
Girl Chums in Work and Athletics. 

3. GRACE HARLOWE’S JUNIOR YEAR AT HIGH SCHOOL; or, 

Fast Friends in the Sororities. 

4. GRACE HARLOWE’S SENIOR YEAR AT HIGH SCHOOL; or, 

The Parting of the Ways. 



THE COLLEGE GIRLS SERIES 

By JESSIE GRAHAM FLOWER, A. M. 

PRICE, $1.00 EACH 

Every school and college girl will recognize that the ac¬ 
count of Grace Harlowe’s experiences at Overton College is 
true to life. 

1. GRACE HARLOWE’S FIRST YEAR AT OVERTON COLLEGE. 

2. GRACE HARLOWE’S SECOND YEAR AT OVERTON COLLEGE. 

3. GRACE HARLOWE’S THIRD YEAR AT OVERTON COLLEGE. 

4. GRACE HARLOWE’S FOURTH YEAR AT OVERTON COLLEGE. 

5. GRACE HARLOWE’S RETURN TO OVERTON CAMPUS. 

6. GRACE HARLOWE’S PROBLEM. 

7. GRACE HARLOWE’S GOLDEN SUMMER. 










THE GRACE HARLOWE OVERSEAS 

SERIES 

By JESSIE GRAHAM FLOWER, A. M. 

PRICE, $1.00 EACH 

Grace Harlowe went with the Over- 
ton College Red Cross Unit to France, 
there to serve her country by aiding the 
American fighting forces. These books 
will interest every girl reader because 
they describe the great war from a 
girl’s point of view. 

1. GRACE HARLOWE OVERSEAS. 

2. GRACE HARLOWE WITH THE RED 
CROSS IN FRANCE. 

3. GRACE HARLOWE WITH THE MA¬ 
RINES AT CHATEAU THIERRY. 

4. GRACE HARLOV/E WITH THE U. S. 
TROOPS IN THE ARGONNE. 

5. GRACE HARLOV/E WITH THE YANKEE 
SHOCK BOYS AT ST. QUENTIN. 

WITH THE AMERICAN ARMY ON THE 

THE GRACE HARLOWE OVERLAND 
RIDERS SERIES 

By JESSIE GRAHAM FLOWER, A. M. 

PRICE, $1.00 EACH 

Grace Harlowe and her friends of the Overton College Unit 
seek adventure on the mountain trails and in the wilder sec¬ 
tions of their homeland, after their return from service in 
France. These are stories of real girls for real girls. 

1. GRACE HARLOWE’S OVERLAND RIDERS ON THE OLD 

APACHE TRAIL. 

2. GRACE HARLOWE’S OVERLAND RIDERS ON THE GREAT 

AMERICAN DESERT. 

3. GRACE HARLOWE’S OVERLAND RIDERS AMONG THE KEN¬ 

TUCKY MOUNTAINEERS. 

4. GRACE HARLOWE’S OVERLAND RIDERS IN THE GREAT 

NORTH WOODS. 

5. GRACE HARLOWE’S OVERLAND RIDERS IN THE HIGH 

SIERRAS. 

6. GRACE HARLOWE’S OVERLAND RIDERS IN THE YELLOW¬ 

STONE NATIONAL PARK. 

7. GRACE HARLOWE’S OVERLAND RIDERS IN THE BLACK 

HILLS. 

8. GRACE HARLOWE’S OVERLAND RIDERS AT CIRCLE O 

RANCH. 


Grace Harlowe 
Overseas 



0>»frir»* Strut 

Jessie GrahamT - ] owei; A.M. 


6. GRACE HARLOWE 
RHINE. 





















WEE BOOKS FOR WEE FOLKS 

For little hands to fondle and for mother to read aloud. 
Every ounce of them will give a ton of joy. 

WEE BOOKS FOR WEE FOLKS SERIES 


1. MOTHER GOOSE NURSERY TALES. 

2. MOTHER GOOSE NURSERY RHYMES. 

3. A CHILD’S GARDEN OF VERSES. Robert 

Louis Stevenson. 

4. THE FOOLISH FOX. 

5. THREE LITTLE PIGS. 

6 THE ROBBER KITTEN. 

7. LITTLE BLACK SAMBO. 

8. THE LITTLE SMALL RED HEN. 

9. THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS. 

10. THE LITTLE WISE CHICKEN THAT 

KNEW IT ALL. 

11. PIFFLE’S ABC BOOK OF FUNNY ANIMALS. 

12. THE FOUR LITTLE PIGS THAT DIDN’T HAVE ANY MOTHER. 

13. THE LITTLE PUPPY THAT WANTED TO KNOW TOO MUCH. 

14. THE COCK, THE MOUSE AND THE LITTLE RED HEN. 

15. GRUNTY GRUNTS AND SMILEY SMILE—INDOORS. 

16. GRUNTY GRUNTS AND SMILEY SMILE—OUTDOORS. 

17. I DON’T WANT TO WEAR COATS AND THINGS. 

18. I DON’T WANT TO GO TO BED. 

WEE FOLKS BIBLE STORIES SERIES 

1. WEE FOLKS STORIES FROM THE OLD TESTAMENT. In 

Words of One Syllable. 

2. WEE FOLKS STORIES FROM THE NEW TESTAMENT. In 

Words of One Syllable. 

3. WEE FOLKS LIFE OF CHRIST. 

4. WEE FOLKS BIBLE ABC BOOK. 

5. LITTLE PRAYERS FOR LITTLE LIPS. 

THE WISH FAIRY SERIES 

1. THE LONG AGO YEARS STORIES. 

2. THE WISH FAIRY OF THE SUNSHINE AND SHADOW 

FOREST. 

3. THE WISH FAIRY AND DEWY DEAR. 

4. THE MUD WUMPS OF THE SUNSHINE AND SHADOW 

FOREST. 

PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED IN COLORS. 



PRICE, 50c. EACH 
















WEE FOLKS PETER RABBIT SERIES 


1. THE TALE OF PETER RABBIT. 

2. HOW PETER RABBIT WENT TO SEA. 

3. PETER RABBIT AT THE FARM. 

4. PETER RABBIT’S CHRISTMAS. 

5. PETER RABBIT’S EASTER. 

6. WHEN PETER RABBIT WENT TO 
SCHOOL. 

7. PETER RABBIT’S BIRTHDAY. 

8. PETER RABBIT GOES A-VISITING. 

9. PETER RABBIT AND JACK-THE-JUMPER. 

10. PETER RABBIT, JACK-THE-JUMPER AND THE LITTLE BOY. 

11. PETER RABBIT, JACK-THE-JUMPER AND LITTLE WHITE 

RABBIT. 

12. PETER RABBIT, JACK-THE-JUMPER AND THE OLD WITCH 

■WOMAN. 

13. PETER RABBIT, JACK-THE-JUMPER AND THE TINYBITS. 

14. WHEN PETER RABBIT WENT A-FISHING. 

15. OLD MOTHER RABBIT AND THE BIG BROWN BEAR. 

WEE FOLKS CINDERELLA SERIES 

1. THE WONDERFUL STORY OF CINDERELLA. 

2. THE STORY OF LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD. 

3. THE OLDTIME STORY OF THE THREE BEARS. 

4. THE OLD, OLD STORY OF POOR COCK ROBIN. 

5. CHICKEN LITTLE. 

6. PUSS IN BOOTS. 

7. THREE LITTLE KITTENS THAT LOST THEIR MITTENS. 

8. JACK THE GIANT KILLER. 

9. JACK AND THE BEAN-STALK. 

10. TOM THUMB. 

LITTLE BUNNIE BUNNIEKIN SERIES 

1. LITTLE BUNNIE BUNNIEKIN. 

2. LITTLE LAMBIE LAMBKIN. 

3. LITTLE MOUSIE MOUSIEKIN. 

4. LITTLE DEARIE DEER. 

5. LITTLE SQUIRRELIE SQUIRRELIEKIN. 

6. OLD RED REYNARD THE FOX. 

PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED IN COLORS. 



PRICE, 50c. EACH 



























































































































, 






































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V 















































































































